


Pinky Promise

by pandafarts



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Ballet Dancer Yuri Plisetsky, Car Accidents, DJ Otabek Altin, Dancer Katsuki Yuuri, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Homophobia, Minor Character Death, Minor Violence, Model Victor Nikiforov, Multi, Red String of Fate, Soulmates, They aren't ice skaters, more tags to come, multi ships, society sucks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-26
Updated: 2020-05-08
Packaged: 2021-02-25 22:34:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 25
Words: 37,361
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21573088
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pandafarts/pseuds/pandafarts
Summary: Otabek’s shoes squeaked endlessly on the cement as he darted through the hospital. It had been scary to cross the intersection that led to the hospital, scarier to hear the doctors yelling and chasing after him as he pushed though the doors into the trauma ward, the part of the ER that people entered but usually didn’t come back from.There are several guidelines that determined if your red string of fate was connected to the right person. Same sex relationships were a no no. You can't be connected if you're not the same exact age, and if you were rich and your match was poor, that wasn't allowed either. If your partner dies, you can't get another match. The only problem was that there were matches popping up everywhere that didn't follow the rules.
Relationships: Jean-Jacques Leroy/Isabella Yang, Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov, Lilia Baranovskaya/Yakov Feltsman, Mila Babicheva/Sara Crispino, Otabek Altin/Yuri Plisetsky
Comments: 182
Kudos: 220





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I've been sitting on this idea for awhile. I have a lot of head-canons, and I'm excited to expand into some new pairings! Please enjoy and let me know what you think :)

Otabek’s shoes squeaked endlessly on the cement as he darted through the hospital. It had been scary to cross the intersection that led to the hospital, scarier to hear the doctors yelling and chasing after him as he pushed thought the doors into the trauma ward, the part of the ER that people entered but usually didn’t come back from. The scariest part of all was his mother’s cries for him to come back. He ran faster than he ever had before, all on legs that had only learned to walk 2 years ago. The doors probably read something along the lines of “surgery, do not enter,” but he was in a hurry and besides he couldn’t yet read.

That was all irrelevant because 20 minutes ago, Otabek had felt a tug on his pinky and could see a red thread that led off in the distance. His mother had just unbuckled him from his car seat, intending to take him shopping, but without fully comprehending why the string was important, Otabek had made a sudden, mad dash to the nearby hospital. The pull of the string was strong. He could feel it in his heart, his brain and in his stomach. He had to find out where it led.

The door he burst through led into a room where people were shouting. People were talking about “accidents” and “internal bleeding,” and they did this while pressing paddles to a young woman’s chest. It shocked her, and then they’d do CPR. He knows what CPR is at least, he’s seen it on the television.

She looked pale, there was blood, and she wasn’t awake. She looked young, maybe more his babysitter’s age, than Mama’s age. The doctors didn’t notice him, but eventually the machine she was hooked up to makes a steady noise instead of a beeping noise. The doctors sighed and the oldest one said a bad word, one that Mama had told Otabek never to say.

“Time of death, March 1st, 6:25 PM.”

Otabek watches as they look at her belly. He notices for the first time that the teenage woman is pregnant.

“If we move quickly, it may be possible to save her child.”

“She looks like she could be full term. But if the trauma from the wreck injured the baby as well….”

“We will surely find out soon. Scalpel,”

The doctors work quietly. It’s gross, but Otabek feels the string on his pinky pull intensely so he remains rooted to the spot. The doctors pull out the baby. He starts wailing, furious, red faced, and something in Otabek’s heart stops entirely. He can see now that his string is connected to the string on the baby’s pinky. This is his person. Mama said whoever shares your string is your person to love, forever and ever, and they will also love you, forever and ever.

“You can’t go in there!!” Someone yells outside. Mama bursts through the door and snatches Otabek up. She smacks him on the bottom and then hugs him so tight, he can barely breathe.

“You scared me, baby, what got into you?!”

Otabek can’t answer. He is overcome with emotion. This is his person. His person to love forever and ever. He tries to pull away but the doctors have started yelling again. Mama and him get removed from the operating room, scolded, but Otabek still cries, because his heart has never felt anything like this.

There is a middle aged man, in the seating area they are in. The doctors talk to him, and he cries. Cries like Otabek is crying.

“My daughter,” he says over and over.

“My person,” Otabek says over and over.

“Otabek,” his mother says over and over.

Eventually, the old man looks at Otabek and regards him slowly, carefully.

“You, boy, you can see your string can’t you? Who’s it connected to?”

“His string?” Mama asks incredulously, “There’s no way my 3 year old can see his string.” She looks shocked when Otabek nods.

“To the baby. The baby is my person,” Otabek sniffles. The older man looks amazed.

“M’aam, my name is Nikolai Plisetsky. Please let me give you my contact information.”

“I’m not sure, they’re so young…”

The man, who has just lost his teenage daughter and inherited a newborn, smiles kindly at her.

“Well, I’ll write it down. Just in case. Although I’m sure, if they really are connected, they will surely find each other again. It’s just how this thing works.”

Mama inhales shakily. They exchange information. Mama takes the man’s hand.

“I’m so sorry for your loss, Nikolai” They hug. The doctor and Nikolai talk. He tells them his name is Dr. Yuri Alexeev. Nikolai tells him he’s going to name the baby after him. The doctor seems very touched.

After that they leave, Mama takes him to get some food. Otabek asks her to contact the baby and the grandpa every day, but all she says is that he’s still young. That he has plenty of time. On Yuri’s first birthday, they send an outfit. Mama says they need to “respect their grief.” Whatever that means.

After that? Otabek starts preschool and then kindergarten. They go about their lives. The paper with the man’s number goes on the fridge, but they stop noticing it after awhile. When Otabek turns 7 he starts hearing about how the string of fate connections were supposed to happen a certain way. There are rules. Boys only get connected to girls. They were in the same city. They were supposed to be the same age. Otabek isn’t sure why he’s suddenly told through the TV that Yuri is not supposed to be his “person”

Mama tells him that Nikolai never contacted them, but as he gets older, he knows this isn’t true. They move back to Kazakhstan. Yuri becomes far away, and little by little, Otabek gives up.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gonna try to update every Wednesday before ceramic class! Thanks for reading!

Lilia stoops by the grave, scraping invisible bits of grime off the pristine headstone, and wonders for the millionth time how this came to be. She remembers it like it was yesterday. Dimitri had been such a kind person. The girl? The girl didn’t deserve what happened either; she had been a child. A child with child.

It had been evening, and Dimitri had called and told her that he was on his way, but that he had happened upon a teenager, a young mother to be, who was walking. He called out to her, asking if she wanted a ride, and initially she had said no, but eventually agreed. Her dad was very kind, she had explained, always willing to give rides, but he was working and she had a strong craving for hot chocolate and was heading to buy some at the mart down the street. Wouldn’t have been far if her feet weren’t so swollen. She was close to 9 months, maybe over 8 and a half. She had gotten pregnant by accident but that’s okay. Dad was going to help.

He called to assure Lilia that he was coming home as soon as he dropped her off. Lilia truly hoped the poor girl had gotten her hot chocolate before she died.

The drunk driver hit the driver’s side, so Dimitri was killed instantly, from what they told her. The miserable driver had killed herself on impact too. That shouldn’t be, but was, Lilia’s greatest comfort. The girl she was told had also died, later on at the hospital during surgery. The child had survived. Lilia had never seen him, but he’d be 16 almost 17 by now. She thinks about him often, and his poor mother who got in a friendly stranger’s car and got killed for it. Dimitri was always a kind man. Lilia considered herself very practical. She’s not sure if she would offer a strange woman a ride. She knows that he did the right thing, even though it went up in flames.

She’s ashamed that she doesn’t know if she would have given the girl a ride. What kind of person does that make her?

Lilia sniffs, glares hard at the lilies she brought, She will not cry. She never cried before all this happened, and she hated that she did so often now. He would have hated seeing her like this. He told her once, “I love your strength.” She hardly felt strong at all. She felt like an egg with a hard and cold exterior but ready to crack at any pressure.

Her soul mate came and left. She misses feeling the tug on her pinky every time he was near, or when they were happy together. They had been married almost 10 years, unable to conceive but he had accepted her, even though she was barren. He said that she was enough. But here she was without him, and she felt hollow.

Her pinky finger twinges, startling her. She had felt it pull when he died. A few minutes after he called to say he’d be late, but before the police called with the news she felt his string pull hard and then go slack. It was the reason she knew before they called her. She hasn’t felt anything since.

Lilia looks down and sees a string. She can’t believe it, but it doesn’t connect to the headstone of her late husband. Looking up, she sees a man, probably a groundskeeper pulling weeds a few headstones away. She can’t believe she didn’t notice him. She must not have been very observant, lost in her grief.

Her pinky registers every pull of his hands as they uproot the weeds. They are _attached._

Fury builds. He’s not Dimitri. He’s not even handsome, he’s short and squat and balding! This has to be a joke!

Lilia springs up from Dimitri’s grave, ignoring the wetness on her cheeks in favor of storming up to the unattractive male and giving him a withering glare. She yanks at the string just for good measure. The male looks up at her, and his brief awestruck expression almost makes her anger fade, but it doesn’t. He looks down at the string of fate. People can only see their own string. They are invisible to everyone else. Lilia knows that he can see it too, can feel it’s tug even though it’s messed up that she’s been given a second one, when having Dimitri back is all she wants.

“This is a mistake,” the man says. Something in Lilia snaps.

“You’d be lucky to be matched to a woman like me! My husband certainly was!” She’s typically calm, cool and collected, but he has her foaming at the mouth already. It makes her hate him even more.

“Exactly. I have no luck. Look at me and then look at you! To be perfectly honest, you’re out of my league.” The man says emphatically as he fishes through his pockets. He pulls out a pack of tissue and thrusts it at her. She takes it, surprised and it must show on her face because the man snorts.

“I work in a cemetery, you are hardly the first person I’ve caught crying. Don’t worry about me, I’ll go clean on the other side.”

Maybe it’s because he’s self-deprecating. Maybe it’s because he’s complimented her. Mostly it’s because he carries around tissue for people he finds grieving while he works. But after Lilia finishes mopping her face, she holds out her hand for him to shake.

“Lilia Baranovskaya, and you are?”

“Yakov Feltsman. Nice to meet you.”

When he shakes her hand, it’s strange to say the least. His hands are rough from his work, calloused and dry: unpleasantly so. Her heart however, lurches in a way that is very much pleasant. For whatever reason, the “one match and one match only” rule had been reestablished. It feels just like touching Dimitri had. Not sure whether to be elated or terrified she lets go. The man… Yakov looks her dead on. He looks sincere.

“I’ve got to weed a little near the entrance. I’m sorry for your loss, Mrs. Baranovskaya. Goodbye.”

He walks away, tools in hand and Lilia smirks. Or was it a smile? She has so little experience with either, so it’s hard to tell.

Lilia sniffs and glances at his grave again. She rarely talks aloud to him, preferring the privacy of talking to him in her head, but she makes an exception just this once.

“He called me Misses. Not Miss. He addressed me as a married woman. I felt that that was very respectful, don’t you?”

Meanwhile

Yuri Plisetsky looked at his reflection in the mirror, huffed angrily, but did not look away. At 16… no, as of today 17, he was a rebellious hellcat of a headbanger who had the great and terrible misfortune of being not only prettier than half the girls in his class, but short and skinny to boot.

Fuck.

Today was the anniversary of his mother’s passing. Is it weird to miss someone you never met? He missed her terribly, felt a connection with her that children only have with their mothers, but she had never held him. She had been dead before he drew his first breath.

It was also, regrettably, his birthday. Grandpa always made a big deal of it. Yuri hated it. He didn’t want Grandpa to cook him dinner and bake a cake when he lost his daughter the moment Yuri came into existence. It wasn’t fair to ask the old man of that. He did so much for Yuri. Yuri can’t imagine losing your kid and then turning around and buying formula and taking a newborn home. He admires his grandpa more than anyone else, and he knows that despite everything he is loved.

Maybe _because_ of everything he is loved. Grandpa talks a lot about how important family is, and how meaningful life is. Yuri can’t blame him. Some people want to find beauty in tragedy, but Yuri’s not particularly good at that, honestly. He didn’t have any friends. He feels like his whole existence was a mistake. His mom had been his age when he was ‘born’ and he’s pretty sure that was accidental. Plus she had died having him. He feels like he should have never been born really, but whenever he said as much to Grandpa he’d try to coax him into talking to the guidance counselor at school, or try to get him to take food over to the neighbors, particularly ones that had kids his age.

Yuri knew a set up when he saw one. Screw that. He doesn’t need shit from anybody. Not advice, not friendship.

Not even the red thread on his pinky stretching off into the distance.

He had asked Grandpa about it pretty early on. He had told Yuri that he was matched at birth to a slightly older boy that had literally burst through the operating room to meet him. Grandpa said the child had been moved to tears, but his mother had been reluctant for them to connect. Grandpa had contacted the mother many times, and found out that they had moved back to Kazakhstan. His mother had been going to school in Russia but had returned once she graduated.

It had been easier than anticipated to accept that he was gay. If his match was another boy, then there was no use questioning it. Yuri was okay with that now, although he had needed to work through it a little.

That being said, same sex matches were highly frowned upon, especially in Russia. Yuri’s self-acceptance didn’t mean that people wouldn’t give them shit if they were together.

He had never met this Otabek. He didn’t know if he could make a long distance relationship work. That’s another thing. People weren’t supposed to be matched out of country. That didn’t usually happen either.

Yuri sighs. Grandpa was gonna come home any minute and then they’d go visit Mom’s grave and then go get him a present. “Anything he liked” (apparently) he could buy.

He doesn’t deserve it. None of it.

Yuri goes to the bathroom, splashes water on his face. He needs to get a handle on this teenage angst or it will make a mess of everything.

He wonders what Otabek looks like. If he’s cute, or if he’s kind. Yuri always thinks of him fondly. If he really had to ask himself what he really wanted it would be to meet the boy who ran like crazy just because he was being born.

He doesn’t know if he should….He hears the door open and close as Grandpa comes home. He calls downstairs.

“Grandpa? Can you give me the number? Otabek’s mom’s number?”

Grandpa comes climbing up the stairs.

“I could dear, but you know I told you before that she doesn’t answer. Would you like to try looking for him online? Maybe on one of your social media sites?”

Yuri hadn’t given much thought to that.

“How would I even find him? Look for Otabek Altin and then his country? Surely there would be tons of results!”

“I would think, Yurachaka, that when you saw him… you would know. The red string of fate is a very powerful thing.”

So you’ve said before, Yuri thinks.

“Do you really think I’ll know it when I see him?” Yuri grumbles. Grandpa claps him on the shoulder, walks over to his laptop and gives Yuri a mischievous look.

“Well,” the old man says, “there’s only one good way to find out, isn’t there?”


	3. Chapter 3

Victor pulled out his debit card, paid for his ticket, over a grand, and tugged on the string that had suddenly appeared in hopes that it would tug back. It gave him a thrill to see the red thread on his pinky, but if his soulmate felt him pull then he didn’t make himself known. And yes, it was a man. Victor knew himself well enough. He plucks at the string and ignores the looks the other travelers cautiously sent him.

Nothing. Nothing yet, but that just meant he needed to follow it. He was closer to 30 than 20 now, and his string had never made itself known until now. He felt that he needed to follow it, regardless of cost or consequence.

Hence the very expensive ticket to Japan. He had followed his string to the airport after it appeared and only hesitated a little when it led him through security and then, a flight to Japan that was boarding very soon. He’s damn lucky he carries his passport with him, or he would have never made the flight. He can buy clothes there.

He didn’t even have luggage with him. That’s how insane this whole thing was. He had been modeling for a very expensive brand, so the ticket (and the resulting clothes he’d have to buy there,) weren’t really a big deal. He leaves a message with his manager, then promptly turns his phone off so he doesn’t get scolded. He’s been told before that he’s dramatic, impulsive even, but he’s 27 and he’s just now seeing his string. That means something right?

People’s strings usually appeared when they were near their soulmates, and when they were both at a time where they were ready for love. Victor supposes you could in theory see yours as a child, but he didn’t know anyone personally who had. It was unheard of. Then again being his age and never seeing your string was unheard of too.

The plane boards, and Victor’s so excited that the stewardess gives him a strange look.

He watches the sun rise through the tiny window as the plane ascends, and thinks of the person he’s going to meet. Saying “hey I saw our string and got on a plane” might be a bit much now that he’s thinking about it. For a small second he has doubts, but in his typical fashion he lies back and smiles. He’s waited far too long for this. He will do anything for this person. He believes in love above anything.

Victor feels warm.

Yuri feels cold.

Cold is what he felt as he stared at Otabek’s profile picture. He felt cold, and he knew it was Otabek, even though his picture was of an eagle and not his face, he knew it even if he only posted sporadically, mostly about being a DJ, which was awesome. But back to this cold thing.

He knew it was him because the ‘cold sensation’ he felt was strong enough to only be a sign of their connection.

The cold was a very pleasant cold, not one of dread or discomfort.

It was like icing a bruise or running cold tap water over a burn after you hurt yourself. It was like putting cold water on your face when you were angry and trying to calm down. It was like the chill in the air as rain fell outside, and you watched it through the window and listened to the crackle of thunder. It was like water evaporating on your sunburned skin after you swam on a blistering hot day.

It felt like pure _relief._

Yuri ran hot. Not literally, of course. Being both slim and pale he tended to always have a chill to his fingers and toes. Emotionally he was always hot, fuming or embarrassed, mostly fuming, and Yuri felt sometimes that he felt emotions more than other people did. It hurt more. Things like anger, shame, anxiety crawled over his skin until he felt like he was burning up, unable to relax or come down. He felt red hot shame at his mother’s death, which didn’t make sense, but things like that rarely do. The heat wrecked him, it ruined him, it made him want to give up.

He finds himself close to tears, to feel an instant release from all of that.

A droplet of water hits the keyboard. Ah, so he’s more moved than he thought.

Grandpa pats him softly on the shoulder.

“I remember seeing your Grandmother the first time. It’s overwhelming isn’t it? It’s the most powerful magic, there is, the connections the strings give us. The fact that you are having a reaction to this alone means you two are very connected.”

Yuri wipes his face with his sleeve.

“I want to meet him. I have to.”

“You are going graduate pretty soon here. I was saving up to buy you a vehicle as a present. Would you prefer plane tickets instead? Naturally I will be going with you…”

Yuri hugs his Grandpa tight.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” Grandpa laughs.

“Well, message him. We have to arrange it with him. And his mother. She may not be as excited for it as we are!”

“He’s of age though. You’d think it would be his choice!”

“Yuri, when you turn 18 will my opinion still matter?” Yuri’s heart sinks.

“Of course. Dammit! I’m never going to meet him.”

“Just message him. That’s all you can do.”

“What do I say? Hi, you’re my soulmate, let’s meet up?” Yuri scoffs. Grandpa nods.

“Yes, actually, I think that will work.”

Meanwhile….

A few thousand miles away, Otabek’s checking his messages, and notices one from someone he doesn’t know. It’s a young man with a leopard hoodie, flipping off the camera, but grinning and tears spring to his eyes without warning. Instantly he is transported to the trauma ward, and the screaming orphan he remembers fondly presents himself as an attractive youth. He sometimes feels cold, like he doesn’t have a purpose, or he’s out of place, but seeing Yuri’s (Yuri’s!) face feels like sitting by a fire, with hot drinks and food. It feels like a sleeping cat on your lap, or a happy dog leaning against your leg. It’s so _warm._

The message reads.

_I think you’re my soulmate. Is that okay?_

Otabek laughs. He feels joy.

_So much more than ok. I think so too._

Otabek pauses, then types.

_You’re just as beautiful as I remember._

The string on his pinky gives a potent jolt. Instantly Otabek knows through the bond that Yuri is embarrassed but not in a bad way.

_I would say the same about you, but you don’t really have any pics up._

_Yeah, I never really got into that selfie stuff. I can find one?_

Otabek searches through his photos on his computer and spends an anxious couple of minutes looking for a picture that looks good. He settles on his graduation photo, where he’s actually smiling for once. The resulting response is fantastic.

_Damn! You’re a good looking guy. Do you wanna chat a bit or whatever?_

Otabek smiles so hard it feels foreign.

_I would love to talk._


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! <3

Yuuri shared the mirror, dabbed concealer under his eyes, and ignored the feeling of being ignored. He’s always been a great multitasker, so that’s something he supposes. The show is in five minutes, so he tries to make himself look hot while simultaneously trying to talk himself down.

He doesn’t mean to get lathered up. He never does. But he feels _invisible_ and it’s maddening.

Granted the bartender (who was also his roommate, go figure) was always nice to him, but the other dancers? Not so much. Yuuri has some of them on his social media, but while they talk about hanging out, they never do. Some of them were online daily but hadn’t responded to his messages in literal months.

People get busy. People get stressed. Yuuri has to remind himself, but he honestly feels like he gets ghosted a lot and it’s getting _old._

When his parents ask about it he gives a diplomatic answer. Stuff about losing touch or people leading different lives. But in his head? Yuuri blames it on being fat. That and having crippling anxiety. He tended to worry. If he went out drinking he’d fret about drinking too much. If they went out dancing he’d worry about what to wear. If they saw a movie, he’d worry about getting there in time.

After awhile people stopped understanding. The invitations stopped coming.

It killed Yuuri.

He was a burlesque dancer, and he was a little on the chubby side. He guesses people saw it as a little bit of a novelty. Sometimes heavier people who came to the shows shook his hand and seemed happy to see him, and that was nice. Sometimes he worried he was being played for laughs. His teacher slash boss, Minako always looked out for him, so he kinda doubted it.

But he worried about that too. He worried about everything.

Yuuri knew it was time to go on, but he had worked himself into a funk, he furiously blinked, trying to pull himself together.

The curtain opened. The music started.

Yuuri tried not to break.

Victor is grateful that his string is still visible. He had been half terrified that it would dissipate after he landed, but it still was there. It had taken him a long time to get there. He’s disoriented. He can’t remember how long the flight was. He’s not sure how many hours ahead Japan is. He had to find a bank and exchange his money. He had stopped to eat, even though he wanted to keep following the string, his body had made demands. It’s evening now, and his string tells him that his mate is anxious so he feels a need to get there quickly.

He knows a very small amount of Japanese, but he’s good with English. The cab driver spoke some English and was only a little annoyed to follow Victor’s strange instructions. He didn’t know where he was going. Didn’t have an address. Just told him where to turn.

Eventually the trail stops at a somewhat questionable building. Could be a club? Could be a sex shop? Hard to say.

Victor pays his driver, and stares up at the building. He’s nervous. Why is he so nervous? This is his soul mate right? There isn’t a chance of rejection, is there?

Is there??

He steps inside and sees a stage. Several sexily clad dancers shimmy and sway to the music. The audience claps and whistles.

His soulmate is probably the cutest one of all.

Victor looks at the man and knows it’s his match right away. He’d know even if he couldn’t see the string between them. He’s a little shorter than Victor, with the prettiest brown eyes he’s ever seen. He seems a tiny bit unsure of himself, and Victor finds himself whistling when he passes by. He smiles at his mate, watches his cheeks flush, and sees him dance with a bit more confidence. This beautiful, uncertain man deserves and needs to have his confidence boosted. It’s a bit poetic in a way, because Victor’s been told he’s a little full of himself. Maybe they are complimentary, where Victor’s confidence might rub off on this man and maybe in turn Victor might become less arrogant.

After the dance ends Victor expects the man to come over and say hello but he simply goes in the back and does not return.

The guy manning the bar draws Victor’s attention. He doesn’t look Japanese. He’s laughing loudly and pouring drinks with a flourish. Victor finds himself attracted to his energy. Not in the sense he feels with the mystery man, but in the way happy people attract others. Victor walks up to him.

“Hello! I was wondering if you knew who that dancer was, well he caught my eye.”

The man gives him a searching look. Victor briefly prays that he can speak English.

“I can’t tell you a name, without a description.”

“He’s about this tall. Beautiful, brown eyes. Maybe a little shy?”

“Wow. Usually people describe him differently,” the man remarks. Victor frowns. Sure, his mate was little heavier than some others, but that was not the aspect that stood out right away. If people saw those eyes last they were stupid!

“You aren’t going to follow him home and skin him, are you Mr. Russia?”

“No!” Victor gestures frantically. “I did follow him here. I saw my string of fate and followed it. He’s my soulmate. I’m actually not sure why he didn’t say hello.”

The man laughs. “Yeah, that sounds like Yuuri. He always acts like he doesn’t deserve anything good. He doesn’t have the best self-esteem. I think this job boosts his confidence a little, but not enough. Where did you follow him from?”

“Moscow.”

“Seriously?! Ugh, you have won so many brownie points. I live with Yuuri, I think you are just what he needs. Come on….”

“Victor. Nice to meet you!”

“I’m Phichit. Nice to meet you too! Let’s get you two introduced!”

Victor followed the excited man outside, feeling a combination of excitement and dread.

“Do you think Yuuri will be happy to see me?” His nerves are lead in his stomach.

“Maybe? Maybe not? But no worries. He always comes around!”

Well if that wasn’t ominous, Victor wasn’t sure what was.

Yuuri had always been interested in fashion. He had been following Victor’s career for years. He was probably the most beautiful person there was. He had come from a bad family and worked really hard to make a name for himself. Yuuri has read as much. He had posters of the man on his walls for crying out loud. Hot? Check. Hardworking? Check. Honestly combine those two things and Yuuri was toast. It didn’t help that every time he read an interview he’s done, Victor came across as so positive and energetic.

Everything about him was painfully attractive.

Everything about Yuuri was painfully not.

But then Yuuri felt the tug of the bond, heard him whistle, felt the warmth of his gaze.

What he felt through the bond was incredible. He’s heard people say they felt instant warmth, but this was so much more. It felt like an unstoppable force of optimism. Like he was okay, and everything was going to turn out. It felt light and happy which was a lot opposite from what Yuuri felt most of the time.

He’s not sure he wants to meet Victor. The bond probably feels anxious and self-loathing on his end. Yuuri doesn’t want to make this beautiful person feel terrible by being himself.

Phichit arrives home, and there’s someone with him. Briefly Yuuri wonders if he’s brought someone home from the club to hook up with, but his string lurches and he feels the bond and he knows that his meddling roommate has decided to intervene.

Yuuri marches out of his room to settle it once and for all, but Victor looks at him in a way that shuts him up.

He looks like a child at Christmas, a person petting a little puppy or a woman meeting their baby for the first day. There’s so much happiness. He looks like he’s so overjoyed to see him, _Yuuri_ who has dressed down into sweats, has his big glasses on and who weighs 30 pounds more than he wants to.

Yuuri feels like he’s going to cry. He should say hello, introduce himself or whatever, but he just shakes his hand. He’s not sure what to do. He wants to hug this stranger, but he tries not to go overboard. The parts where their skin touches though the handshake crinkle pleasantly through the bond.

“I’m hoping… I’m hoping you’re not disappointed.” Yuuri says after they greet each other. Victor shakes his head hard. His blue eyes look so earnest.

“No. Not in the slightest. You are exactly what I’ve always wanted.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the feedback, you guys rock!

Yuri finds himself looking for answers a few days after his birthday. He ends up where he always does. The grass crunches a little under his sneakers. Spring isn’t fully here and the frost is still as prevalent as ever. He pats his phone in his pocket, knowing that without telling him, that Grandpa won’t call: he will know Yuri’s here.

“Hey, mom! I’d ask how you are, but that feels kinda rude, since you're dead and all. I just feel bad talking about me all the time.”

As always, his mother’s grave doesn’t say much. Yuri kind of subscribes to the same “good people go to heaven” theory that Grandpa does, but he’s not super religious. Sometimes though, when the wind whistles through the trees like it does today and his heart is full for her, he feels like he’ll turn around and she’ll be standing beside him.

“I’ve been talking to my soulmate. His name is Otabek. He saw you die. He saw me be born. All when he was a little kid. He texts me all the time. We text from when we wake up to until we fall asleep. I think I love him already. Is that okay? I mean, I feel like what happened to you is partially my fault.”

She had gotten pregnant fooling around with an older guy, someone in town that had always been nice to her. Grandpa never made any effort for him to be in their lives. Grandpa was okay with Otabek being a little older than Yuri, but Yuri’s father had been older than Grandpa was comfortable with and the law agreed.

She hid her pregnancy until she was pretty far along, and by the time Grandpa found out, she had decided she wanted to have Yuri. Yuri doesn’t know if she ever wanted to terminate the pregnancy, but it’s something he tries not to think about.

She dropped out at about 7 months. If she had been at school when she was supposed to be she would have never gotten into an accident.

So, that was Yuri’s flawed thinking. If she can’t be happy, why can he? It felt unfair.

“So, Mom is it okay? I feel like I don’t deserve him. I feel like I don’t deserve to be happy.”

“You do.”

Yuri spins around, heart in his throat. There’s a woman standing near him, but it’s not his mother. She looks mortified.

“I’m sorry. I ask my husband the same thing. I did not mean to answer.”

“It’s okay. I was just hoping. I never met her.” Yuri scuffs the frosted ground with his sneaker.

The woman is a tall, rather stern looking woman, who could probably cut a man with her cheekbones. The slight glimmer in her eyes, however, made her painfully human.

“Tell me about her,” she requests quietly. Yuri hates talking about his mother, but he can’t refuse for some reason. Maybe it’s because this woman looks as desperate as he feels.

“Sure. You can talk about your husband too if you want to. I’m Yuri.”

“I’m Lilia.”

“So my mom….”

Mila took a deep breath, counted to ten and tried to forget every swear word she wanted to spew at the literal asshole that sat in her section.

“The coffee here is awful! And the place is never clean. It’s no wonder they’re struggling to keep open,” said asshole complains to his friend. He’s making no effort to keep his voice down, and Mila is only two tables over where she is restocking the napkins. Never mind that Mila scrubs the tables from open to close. If it’s clean enough for the health department, it’s clean enough for this guy! She chases after kids throwing their food, and clowns like this who got syrup on the seats but never tipped. It can’t be clean every flipping moment, when customers treated the diner like a garbage can!

Mila swallows. She knows she’s one last smart remark from going from a waitress living in a crap apartment she can barely afford, to a former employee who has to find a couch to crash on. She needs to calm down quickly, but he’s waving her down.

Crap.

“Hey. This coffee is awful, I want a refund,” he demands of her. This is the moment where he puts her in her place and she has to smile about it.

A woman a few tables over turns in her seat and gives the two unpleasant men a look.

“Why are you being rude? She’s handling the morning rush, with no help and you’re talking to her like she’s stupid. Why don’t you two go eat somewhere else?”

Mila freezes. Her voice is delicate but indignant, and heavily accented with Italian. Upon turning it turns out to belong to one of the prettiest girls Mila has seen. Her hair easily reaches her waist. The man stares at the pretty girl like she has horns. The other laughs.

“Have you tasted the coffee?”

“I have. It’s fine! Leave her alone. She’s trying to make a living like everyone else. One more word about the coffee and it’s going in your lap.”

The man stands up, says a few choice words, then storms out with his buddy in tow.

“We’re never coming back!”

_Oh thank God,_ Mila thinks. _Please don’t._

It’s only once the uproar dies down that Mila realizes that she can see her string. She pulls on it. The woman doesn't seem to notice, but she grins at Mila.

“Does that happen a lot? What rotten people.”

“Yes, it happens sometimes. Thank you for stepping in. I’ve mouthed off too much. I was worried I was going to get fired once and for all.”

“I’m Sara.” She gives Mila her hand to shake. Something bright bubbles where their hands touch, something almost fizzy like sparking wine. Mila's so used to burning herself on hot plates, being on her sore feet all day, and splitting her tips with everyone until she couldn't even afford a new pair of non-slip shoes. Touching Sara felt like lace on your bare skin, champagne on New Years, a spritz of perfume. It felt like all the nice, luxurious things that Mila either couldn't afford or didn't make time for. 

“I’m Mila! Are you from here?”

“No! Just visiting for a while.”

“Oh. Well I’m glad you’re here.” Mila looks down again at the string.

“I’m sorry, but I have to meet Mickey. I hope your day gets better!” She puts her payment for her meal down on the table.

Mila frowns. “But we’re connected!”

Sara looks puzzled. “We are?”

It suddenly dawns on Mila and her stomach feels sick. She’d take the rude diner critiquing her coffee all day over an unrequited string.

Sara can’t see it. She doesn’t see that they are soul mates. Mila thinks quickly for a response.

“Well of course, we are, nobody’s stood up for me before! Why don’t you come back tomorrow? I’ll fix you something on the house.”

Sara smiles. “I’m not going to take a free meal! But we’ll come back probably before we leave next week.”

We?

“Oh. For Italy?”

“Mhmm! Have a good day! See you around!” Sara waves at her when she leaves. The bell at the door spells Mila’s doom. She’s gone. Her soulmate is _gone._

Mila sits at one of the messy tables, puts her head down and sighs heavily.

Whoever this Mickey is, he’s a lucky man! Sara was apparently the type to defend someone she doesn’t even know, and to add to it, she was gorgeous. If she could see their string, it would be perfect.

But she didn’t. She didn’t see the string. Mila stood up, wiped her hands on her apron, and started mentally preparing herself for the lunch rush.

Mila looks over at the two jerk’s table, where their coffee and food sit still steaming. Unpaid for. Shaking her head, she goes to Sara’s table, picks up the money, counts it and then counts it several more times.

It’s way too much money. It’s more than just the eggs and toast she bought, it’s basically enough for three meals, plus a generous tip.

Oh.

She paid for their breakfast. Now Mila doesn’t have to tell her boss about any of it. No money was lost.

Mila’s forgets for a moment that she’ll never see Sara again, or that the lunch rush is coming and there will surely be others just like him. For a moment, she’s just _happy._

_Who knows, maybe I’ll see Sara again._


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading/commenting as always! After this chapter we will have all the intros out of the way! Enjoy <3

It may no longer be the dead of winter in Canada, but it still got pretty damn cold at night. Cold enough that it chills Jean-Jacque Leroy as he gets in his limo to head home. The concert went smoothly, great as always. Life as a successful lead singer was pretty rewarding. He found great joy in what he did, and yeah, he enjoyed being a little affluent. It was convenient; wonderful even to see his success transfer into something he could share with his future wife and children.

His future wife is exactly who he was thinking about. He had gone the first 21 years of his life without ever seeing his string, but it had appeared while he was being driven home. He had his manager, who also happened to be his mother, follow it. After several minutes, through his mounting excitement, he realized two things. One: the string was leading into the bad part of town, and two: his string felt weaker by the minute.

“My soulmate is dying.”

“Oh, honey you can’t know something like that.” His mother is clearly trying to be soothing, but he _knows_ that his future wife is fading fast.

They arrive at a park, there’s clearly a tent city set up. People that didn’t have any luck lived in places like this. The string feels quiet. JJ can’t help but run as fast as he can to the string. His mother seems a little alarmed. They aren’t the sort of people to interact with the needy, personally. Donating food and clothing to organizations was definitely something they made an effort to do, but darting into a stranger’s makeshift tent? Not really.

She’s cold as death when he finds her, and he would think she was sleeping if he didn’t know any better. She has a thin cardigan on, a dirty towel she probably found wrapped around her sockless feet to protect them from frostbite.

JJ, scoops her up without question. She doesn’t smell great, but she’s quite pretty. That’s very much the least of his concerns at the moment. When he picks her up, she feels lighter than a woman her height should. Her arms and legs are slack, but she’s not asleep. She’s unconscious.

He gets her in the car, holding her close. His mother drives faster than he’s seen her. He cradles the homeless woman, no his _soulmate,_ and pleads to God.

“Oh fuck. Please don’t die before I can meet you.”

The woman stirs, notices him and squirms a little, too far gone to struggle, but awake enough to be distressed.

“Shh..” he tells her, “I’m your soulmate, I am going to get you warmed up. I won’t hurt you.” He rubs her arms and sides for circulation

She regards him with grayish eyes. She looks oddly enough: trusting.

“Okay,” she says, curling into his body.

They drive to the hospital; JJ clings to the bond, and prays it won’t fade completely.

People aren’t typically matched from different walks of life, but he doesn’t give a damn about something as meaningless as that. He needs to watch over her.

He’ll do anything for her.

In Russia.....

“So Yuri, you have a surprise for me?” Otabek teases.

“So I finished school. I have something that you might want to know about.”

“Chlamydia?”

“No!” Yuri giggles. If he wasn’t talking to his best friend, (his best friend! He has a best friend now) on Skype he would smack him a little. Lightly of course.

“It rhymes with smane pickets.”

“Really? I get to meet you!”

“That’s the most expression I’ve heard you use. And yes, we are coming soon. I’ll message you the dates and times.” Yuri tucks his hair behind his ear. “Is your mom going to be okay with that?”

Otabek sighs,” she’s protective. My dad died when I was pretty little. She feels a constant need to monitor who I’m with. My dad got killed in a mugging. She doesn’t trust the world.”

Yuri nods, feeling sympathetic. After talking for awhile, he knows all this already.

“I never knew my dad, either.” He knows that Otabek knows this. Otabek smiles so sweetly, so sadly, that Yuri needs to be on that plane now.

“I really care about you. I wish I could hug you.” Yuri admits.

“Oh, man I know what you mean. I wish I could hold you. Take you out on the bike.”

“I still can’t believe you have a freaking motorcycle. Makes me think of the phrase ‘ride or die,” Yuri says, mostly just because he knows it’ll make Otabek smile.

“So you wanna be my ride or die? I am so down for that. But I have to go for now. I have a gig pretty soon here. Talk soon?”

“Yeah of course. Talk soon.” Yuri yawns. It’s late.

“G’night love. Go sleep.” The calls ends. Yuri whoops. Grandpa scolds him for being loud at night.

Good night love? They’ve never really come that close to saying “I love you before.”

Heart full, Yuri tucks himself under his comforter, plugging in his phone at his nightstand. He used to forget to charge it frequently, but anticipating good morning texts from a certain someone made him want to never ever let it go completely dead.

Otabek was already making him more responsible. Yuri felt like he could accomplish anything with Otabek by his side.

It felt a little tacky to confess his feelings over the phone, but the minute Yuri saw him for the first time, he was going to run into his arms, tell him.

He just hopes he can win Otabek’s mom over.

Canada....

“She’s coming to,” his dad informs him quietly. The hospital had treated her for hypothermia and some mild frostbite on her toes. They had hooked her up to the monitor, given her fluids. JJ figured she had no insurance, but she didn’t have to worry about money ever again.

“What’s….” She grumbles. Her voice was weak. JJ’s been watching her for hours. She’s regained a little strength while she warmed up. He can feel it in the bond.

“You’re in the hospital. My son is your soulmate. We found you frozen and took you here,” his mother explains. JJ was holding her right hand, and his mother was holding her left. His father watched her monitor, made phone calls to the other band members explaining that they would miss practice that coming week This was too important.

JJ is so happy that his parents are good people and that they are here.

“I have a soulmate?” She sounds incredulous.

“Yeah.” JJ says softly, “I’m JJ. How are you feeling?”

“Lousy,” she laughs. It sounds like music, “I’m Isabella.”

Feeling incredibly happy he squeezes her hand. Her nails are bitten, her bandaged fingers red and raw still.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you Isabella.” It really is. He’s so glad she’s here. Isabella squeezes his hand back. She already feels a little stronger. It sends his heart soaring.

He silently sends gratitude towards the sky.

_Thank you for sparing her. Let me be the type of man she needs._


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Michelle's not going to be a big jerk in this fic, but he's going to initially be a small one XD. Not really bashing him, if anyone really likes his character.
> 
> Thanks for reading and commenting as always. I woke up at like 4 AM, and finally updated haha. Enjoy y'all :)

“Are you sure you’ll be alright?”

“Grandpa, it’s fine. Just gonna get some dinner.” Yuri pushes through the door, immediately smelling savory foods as soon as the bell tinkled. “Enjoy your card games.”

Yuri loves Grandpa, he really does, but he refuses to watch a group of his old buddies play poker for several hours while teasing him about his latest growth spurt.

“If you say so. Make sure to leave a good tip.”

“I will. Watch out for Aleks. I’m pretty sure he cheats.” Yuri says as he is seated.

“Oh I have no doubt.” Grandpa laughs into the phone, before hanging up. Yuri feels a little awkward eating by himself, but it feels healthy to do things without Grandpa. He wishes he had more friends his own age, but it’s hard as hell to make friends, at least for Yuri. He hopes that when he meets Otabek in person they get along as well as they do through messaging. They had talked on the phone too, just hearing Otabek’s calm, even voice settled something in Yuri that he hadn’t even realized needed settling.

“Hi, I’m Mila. I will be your server tonight. What kind of drink can I get started for you?”

Yuri, feeling playful, says “How about a beer?”

Mila flushes. “Sorry, but you look like a minor.” She seems a little flustered, and it’s making Yuri wonder if it’s him or something else.

““I was kidding.” Yuri gestures with his hands, “I’ll have water for now.”

She nods, still flushed. Yuri feels a little bad for her. She looks like she’s one “this chicken is too dry,” from bursting into tears. Yuri has a cousin that waits tables and loves the tips he gets, but not every job is for everybody.

He progresses through his meal, noticing that Mila keeps sending looks at a table with another young woman at it. She’s eating with a man who looks enough like her that you could tell they were related.

The other woman was kind of ignoring Mila.

_Ah, so tainted, unrequited love. That’s gotta hurt._

“Hey! Um, I remember you. Sara, right?” She says to the woman. The woman smiles. It’s a tired, almost sad smile.

“Yes, I remember you too. Hopefully things have improved around here.” She seems like she almost doesn’t want to see Mila.

“Well, as much as they can. I just have to ask….” Mila starts, but the man gives Mila a _look_ before speaking.

“There are certain things we don’t want to put time or energy into. Do you get what I mean?”

“Not particularly.” Mila admits. Sara fidgets. Yuri eats more of his dinner in an effort to appear disinterested.

“Mila, this is my brother Michele. We are planning on leaving to go back to Italy tonight.”

Mila’s face falls so hard it’s almost comical. Except it makes Yuri feel incredibly sad. Instead of continuing the introduction, Mila just stares at them.

“You’re really telling me you can’t see the string?”

“What string?” Sara asks airly.

“The string that connects me to you. Our string of fate.” Mila grounds out stubbornly.

“Let’s eat somewhere else.” Michele says quickly.

“No! Sara, you look right at me and tell me you can’t see it.” Mila stomps her foot. At this point half the restaurant is listening.

“I’m… I was taught…..I don’t think we should… No, I don’t see it.” Sara stands up.

Mila laughs. “What, are same sex matches not condoned in your religion? Honey, if you’re a lesbian, you’re a lesbian.”

Sara flushes. “I am no such thing.” She gets up with her brother to leave. Mila looks so upset that Yuri actually gets up and speaks.

“We all only get one match. One match only. If you go back to Italy you might change your mind. You owe it to yourself to give it at least a little shot.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” the brother scoffs. Sara looks conflicted. She bites her lip.

“I’ll give you my number. Maybe we can be friends.”

Mila nods gravely. They exchange numbers. The siblings leave. Mila bursts into tears.

“I hate this job. I’m so quitting.” She mutters.

Yuri pats the seat beside him.

“Have some fries. She’ll come around.” Mila’s boss comes over, says some bullshit about “her behavior affecting business.” Yuri pays for his food, and they depart.

Mila sniffs the whole way, being both rejected and recently unemployed.

“Can I walk you home?” he asks her. She looks at him funny.

“I mean in a friend way. I have a match too. I like him a lot. I just don’t think you should be walking home crying in the dark.” He says softly.

“I have a car. But if _you_ want a ride home, I could sure use a friend.” Mila offers quietly. It feels so genuine that it takes him aback. He likes the idea of a new friend so much that the concept of a sad one doesn’t bother him at all. Mila puts Grandpa’s address into her GPS and they take off.

“What’s your boyfriend like?”

“He’s not my boyfriend yet. I think he will be soon. He’s pretty chill. I’m kind of a hot head and he cools me down. I get this cool sensation. Like I’m able to finally calm down and think.”

Mila pauses thoughtfully. “I feel like champagne bubbles when I see her. Light. Relaxed.”

“That sounds nice.” Yuri smiles. They arrive home. “ Thanks for the ride. If you wanna text here’s my number.”

“Sounds cool. Have a good night, Yuri.”

Grandpa’s card game has more or less wound down for the night.

“So? Who’s the stranger you found a ride home with?” He teases.

“I think, it’s my new friend.” Yuri answers truthfully.

“That is wonderful,” Grandpa beams.

Hasetsu....

“So, breakfast?” Victor says breathlessly.

“Sure,” Yuuri replies softly. He seems hesitant. Victor gets the overwhelming sense that Yuuri is often, well, overwhelmed.

“Know any good places?”

“I’d like to take you home with me.” Yuuri says, then immediately backtracks, embarrassed, “What I mean is…”

“You want me to meet your parents?” Victor asks incredulously.

“Well, yeah. I know I’m a little unsure about all of this, but you came all this way. It’s hardly fair to not give you a chance.”

“Yeah, what’s that about?” Victor prompts gently.

“I’ve followed your career for awhile. I’ve… always admired you.” Yuuri looks down at his shoes, “but let’s discuss that later. I already texted my parents that we’re coming over. They are pretty nosy, well they are mostly excited, so be prepared for that.” Yuuri puts his jacket on, and they head out the door. Victor’s wonders why Yuuri is ignoring facts. Now he realizes he doesn’t remember.

“I’m still glad I got to meet you.” Yuuri mumbles.

_Oh, sweet Yuuri, Victor thinks, we’ve met before. Don't you remember? We danced all night._


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the feedback! Enjoy you guys <3

Yuri stares at the suitcase on his floor as though it will bring some sort of relief to his inner turmoil. He has to start packing for his trip soon. Grandpa has the date they were flying down to meet Otabek inked black and bold on the calendar, and while he was excited at the prospect of meeting his soulmate soon, his recent conversation with Lilia left a sour taste in his mouth.

They had talked at the graveyard once, and sometime after he became friends with Mila he had seen her once more and ended up getting coffee with her. Yuri wonders if Grandpa liked his new habit of getting into the cars of strangers, but Yuri never felt unsafe with either Lilia or Mila. Mila had recently gotten a hold of Sara. They texted sporadically, and while Yuri was happy for his new friend, their moods didn’t match. He felt down and Mila felt overly hopeful. It was a bit hard to relate. It made him keep a bit of a distance.

Lilia, however, was wounded just like Yuri was. Didn’t really matter that she was older. When he gets into her expensive car to drive to the café, he notices that a man weeding by the gate gives her a wistful glance. Yuri elects not to ask. Once seated at the coffee shop, however, he asks other things.

“When did he die and what from?”

“Who did he pick up? And why?”

“What did he drive? What color?”

These were the questions Yuri asked Lilia that led to them realizing how connected they, as strangers were. It was some bizarre act of fate that they even met at all.

It felt strange, very strange indeed to stare at his empty cup, surrounded by the other loud chattering patrons and realize that this near stranger’s husband had died with his mother.

It should settle something in his heart to know that someone had been kind to her, but all he felt was more depressed. She had been so innocent, just a kid and she had died during something that should have been a positive thing. Dimitri sounded like he had been a stand up, all around decent guy. Lilia certainly seemed overwhelmed when she had told Yuri all about him. He feels a double sense of loss: mostly for his poor mother, but also for the loving husband who was wiped off the face of the earth the second the car got hit.

Poor guy. Poor Lilia. Poor mom. It just fucking sucked. All of it did.

Otabek’s really excited to meet him; it’s all he ever talked about. Yuri was too, but he felt too upset over the recent news to really find it in him to feel joy in his upcoming adventure.

He felt as though the grief was like an ocean wave. Sometimes it pulled back but something always brought it to shore again. He could be strong and in love with Otabek all he wanted, but he could not control the tide.

“So,” Lilia tries eventually, “What kind of activities are you into?”

“Um…” Yuri swirls around the dregs of his cup, “I used to do ballet but the lessons got too expensive.”

Lilia gives him an odd look. “Ballet?”

“Yeah. I got pretty good too. I miss it.”

“How funny. I’ve made a career out of being an instructor.”

Yuri instantly feels alert, a little more alive.

“Really? That’s so awesome. What do you usually charge?” Yuri demands. He sees Lilia’s face light up a little for the first time he’s seen. She gives him a price and it’s lower than he’s ever heard someone charge.

“Please don’t give me a discount because of everything.” Yuri murmurs.

“I’d do it for free if you’d let me.” She takes a tablet out of her purse and writes an address on it.

“Here is my studio. We could start after you return home from meeting your soulmate.”

Yuri stares down at the paper.

“I can’t. I can’t accept that kind of a discount. Thank you though.” Yuri had left the shop, and they haven’t seen each other since. He doesn’t know why he refused. He attributes it to guilt mainly.

He always feels like he’s not allowed to be happy. That he has to atone for something.

“You’re depressed,” Grandpa always tells him. “You need to do something for it.”

He keeps wondering if he can just show up at the studio and say, “hey let’s do the lessons after all.”

Can he do that? He already said no.

“Anyways,” Otabek tells him over Skype, “I’m so happy I get to meet you.”

Happy. Why was happy so hard to find right now?

Canada

“So… Isabella, you are welcome to stay here. You have your own room and bathroom of course.”

“Mrs. Leroy? Can I ask you something?”

“Of course dear, anything.” Mrs. Leroy stops fussing with the bed linens in order to give Isabella her full attention.

“Are you guys being nice to me because I was homeless? Or because I’m his soulmate?”

Isabella has been thinking about this for awhile. They had bought her clothes, and fed her meals after she got out of the hospital. They were the kindest people she had ever met.

“I suppose, dear, that it’s a combination of both. We are very happy that JJ has a match. And we also feel that homelessness is an epidemic. It’s a terrible thing.”

“We really do care about you.” JJ says from the doorway. He has a terrible habit of eavesdropping.

“You don’t know me. We don’t know each other.” Isabella points out. She’s not being cruel, she’s being logical. They don’t know anything about her.

“Well, then let’s talk.” JJ suggests. His mother exits the room, leaving them alone. Isabella’s never had anything…. unsavory happen to her, but most men left her feeling a little uncomfortable. Being alone with JJ, strangers like they were, was different. Out on the streets people stole. People cheated. People lied. Did anything they could to get by.

She wonders if it’s the bond’s power or simply his carefree, confident personality that let her know instinctively that Jean-Jacque Leroy did not do those types of things.

Instead of voicing these thoughts, she opts for being standoffish.

“What, are you going to ask me how I became homeless?” she scoffs. JJ shakes his head.

“No, actually I was going to ask you what your favorite kind of music was.”

“Music? Why would that matter?” She regrets the words as soon as she lets them slip. Here she is; in a well known musician’s house basically saying that music is stupid.

He laughs instead of getting defensive. “I think it tells a lot about a person, what they enjoy, the kind of lyrics they relate with. Here, lets get the computer. You can show me some stuff.”

“JJ, I haven’t had much opportunity to listen to it very much.” Isabella admits. And it’s true she really hasn’t. Hard to look up artists without a phone or computer.

“Awesome! I have a really wide range of things I listen to. You can see what you like,” he says quickly, excited enough at the prospect of introducing her to something he likes, that it makes a smile start to tug on the corners of her mouth.

“Okay. But I heard one outside a store once that I really like. I want to find that one first.”

Isabella starts searching for the song on the laptop and JJ helpfully tries to figure out the lyrics. Something like excitement started to build.

If they sat really close together while they searched, that wasn’t anyone’s business but theirs.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the comments and kudos! You guys rock! Enjoy XD

Losing someone you loved changed a person. Mama was no exception. Otabek has little to no memory of his dad. He was told things over the years, like how he was short for a man and Otabek might be too. He was told that he liked his coffee sweet, and that he liked working on cars and riding motorbikes. That’s the main reason Otabek took up the motorcycle hobby. Anything to feel connected to this person who managed to be both incredibly far away and still endlessly important.

He was told that his father loved his mother and his newborn more than anything.

Otabek’s first real memory involving his father was being told as a toddler that his father died while he was 6 weeks old. Some piece of shit had taken his wallet downtown and instead of giving it to him, father had fought and gotten himself killed for his trouble. Why didn’t he just give him his wallet? He should have thought about more than money and pride, and gone home; shaken but alive.

It wasn’t the kindest thing, to be angry with him. But you don’t always get to choose your emotions, and Otabek tries to view his own logically, stoically, instead of feeling guilty for anything he feels.

Mama was overprotective to the point of ridiculousness. It made sense, given her loss, but that didn’t make it any easier. When Otabek told her Yuri was contacting him, and that he was coming, she had been more fearful than excited for him.

It made Otabek really angry. He’s just barely past his teen years, and he knows that he’s still a child to her, but he’s not so young that he can’t date, or become involved with his soulmate. It’s not like he and Yuri are going to be super serious, or super physical right off the bat. They were guaranteed to be together, so if they needed to go slow, that was fine. It’s not like Otabek was in any sort of rush.

That aside, he was completely ready to kiss Yuri. Today was the day he was coming, and he was at the airport, waiting to meet Yuri and his grandfather. Mama was sitting next to him, knitting a project she has been working on, and he is grateful she has an outlet. She had quizzed him so much about Yuri that it was nice to have a little quiet, with her just counting her stitches.

“He should be here soon.” Otabek feels like his skin is buzzing, on the edge between excited and nervous.

“I want you to be happy. You know that right?”

“Yes Mama.”

“You know, I worry about you having a match so young. I’m hoping he is a good person.”

“He is.” Otabeks assures her tiredly. This was far from the first time they’ve had this conversation.

  
”He’s flipping off the camera in his facebook picture.”

“He’s still a good person.” Otabek grounds out. Suddenly he feels irritated and stubborn. He shoots her a stern, unhappy look. “He’s a sweet person.” He knows that Yuri is quite sweet, but he also has a saucy, feisty side, that he’s not sure Mama will like. It’s enticing to Otabek when Yuri meets him in the middle with enthusiasm and unabashed sassiness, but maybe that won’t appeal to mama.

What if they don’t like each other? What then? Does he have to pick? Suddenly the airport feels cold and dark.

He loves them both. Why wouldn’t they like each other?

Yuri fidgets as the plane lands. He really hopes this goes well. He’s excited as hell, but also a little scared. He squeezes Grandpa’s hand when they touch down, using his fear of flying as a buffer to get a little physical contact in. Grandpa keeps his hand in his while the exit the plane, because he’s surely caught onto this.

“Do I look okay?”

“You look fine. Don’t be so nervous, Yuri.” Grandpa is mellow and at ease, and it allows Yuri to breathe. They collect their luggage. Yuri sends off a text to let Otabek and his mom know they are here.

_We are here, by the luggage claim._

_I see you :)_

He looks up and sees Otabek, sees the other boy smile. He nearly slips running to him, surprised to have him run to meet him in the middle. They collide in a heap of arms and legs. Otabek’s grip is tight, but Yuri doesn’t mind. He feels secure in his hold. The cold sensation is back, pleasant as always, and in stark contrast to the warmth of Otabek’s body itself.

“It’s nice to meet you,” Otabek laughs in his ear. Yuri hears Grandpa laughing, but he doesn’t care.

“It’s nice to meet you too, Beka.”

Russia....

Mila’s always a little surprised when Sara responds. She used to just respond with a word or two and only respond, and not message first. So when she sends Mila an entire sentence without Mila messaging first, it’s a surprise.

_can I tell you a secret?_

Mila stares at the text for a millisecond before responding. A secret?

_Of course :)_

There’s a pause where Sara is typing. It feels like the longest few seconds of Mila’s life.

_I can see our string, but I was raised with the belief that homosexuality went against God’s will. I told myself I would stand up for you against the two guys who were harassing you at work, but that I wouldn’t get involved. I swore to God I wasn’t going to be attracted to you._

Mila breathes in. This is unexpected.

_Are you?_

Sara starts typing again. Mila’s not sure how, but she knows that her soulmate, far away in Italy, is crying.

_I don’t want to be. It goes against everything I’ve been taught. Over the years I’ve noticed woman, but I always tried to explain it away. Like, I’ll tell myself I’m just admiring her or something. What does it mean if my soulmate is you, a woman? Have I let God down? Am I a mistake??_

Mila understands now. It’s heartbreaking, but it makes sense now.

_God doesn’t make mistakes, Sara. I’m not the most religious person out there, but I don’t think we get to pick who we are attracted to. It sounds like you need a friend more than anything. Let’s be friends and see what happens. Maybe you can explore some churches with LGBT connections; there are churches that are okay with it. Maybe you can have God in your life and be gay._

_I never said I was gay._

Mila sighs. These things take time. She’s about to put her phone down so she can continue her job-hunting, when Sara texts her again.

_Mila, I think I’m bisexual._

_Have you ever told anyone that?_ Mila types.

_No. Haven't even admitted it to myself._

_Well, then :D Congrats Sara. I think you should be proud of that :)_

If she’s not proud, then Mila is proud enough for them both.

She just wants Sara to be happy.


	10. Chapter 10

“Are you sure?”

Lilia considers this. She nods. She tells herself to look calm, cool. Unaffected.

“I don’t see us having a date causing any harm,” she answers evenly at last.

Yakov smiles. It does wonders to his serious face, but he’s still no beauty. Nonetheless, it softens something in her, to see something so friendly.

“You asked me for coffee,” she points out. “Then you ask if I am sure.”

“Forgive me. I just figure this must be hard for you.” He shrugs. He is correct. She hasn’t been on a date since her early 20’s and that was a long time ago.

Damn, she’s getting old. But that’s the main reason why this was so important. She wasn’t getting any younger. And she was…. Well lonely didn’t seem big enough a word for it.

“I’ve never thought of any other man. Not for over a decade.” She wants to hide her eyes, lower her gaze, but she’s not the type to do so. The graveyard was pretty today. There were some puffy clouds overhead, looking ever so much like the spun sugar they sold at carnivals and the sky was so clear and blue it looked like a robin’s egg. It felt just as fragile and precious, this moment where she watched her soulmate, her second soulmate pull weeds. She felt the connection, the underlying kindness that Yakov tried so hard to hide, but was unable to.

“Do you mind if we just talk here? That way you can work,” she finds herself saying.

“Of course. Tell me about Dimitri.”

This is a surprise. She hopes the surprise doesn’t show too heavily on her face. She schools her expression into something as neutral as she can, but based on the slight sympathetic look he gives her, it may not have worked.

“I’m not going to be intimidated by the memory of your first match. But I know I must listen because it’s a deep wound.” He pulls a dandelion from the earth, shakes it free of the dirt that clings in the roots. Lilia feels struck dumb. She isn’t used to this blunt, unabashed kindness.

It’s nice in its own right.

“Alright. Let’s talk about Dimitri. But we will talk about you too.”

“That’s agreeable.”

In Japan....

“You know, Yuuri, you and I and Victor have met before.” Phichit sips at his cocktail and tries not to laugh when Yuuri does a spit take.

“Could that have waited until my mouth wasn’t full?” Yuuri says eventually as he mops up the spit and soda mixture from the bar.

“No, that wouldn’t have been as fun. Do you remember that Victor did ballet before he started modeling?”

“Yeah I remember.” Embarrassingly enough, he knows a lot about that time in Victor’s life, because hearing that he wasn’t going to be dancing anymore had been devastating.

“And we were doing the pole dancing competitions. You were having kind of a rough time.”

Yuuri remembers. He got nervous. He remembers fucking up a few performances pretty badly. He was a good dancer, in a lot of different genres. But sometimes when everyone’s eyes were on him, he got so anxious he just couldn’t do it.

“Anyways we had traveled to this overseas competition. There were important people there. You wanted to get something more than just working clubs. You wanted someone to see how talented you were. You built it up so high in your head, that you… well, you kinda blew it.”

Yuuri pales. He vaguely remembers this. The feeling of bitter disappointment. The shame of not being chosen. He remembers drinking the champagne without celebrating. He remembers waking up not sure how he got into bed, just to be sick.

“And what does that have to do with Victor?” Yuuri demands softly.

“He was there. Guy named Christophe danced with you. Really flirtatious. I wouldn’t have minded ending up in his room actually. But you and Victor started dancing too. I know he’s a model now, but he has to miss dancing. He knew everything you did. You two were really on fire.”

Yuuri laughs bitterly. Would be nice to remember all of this. He is mortified that he got so out of control. He could voice this, but decides not to.

“Did you end up in Chris’s room?” he asks instead.

“Honey, my best friend was blackout drunk. I wouldn’t have slept with anyone no matter how hot. You needed me, so after you and Victor stopped dancing I took you to your room and made sure you were okay.”

Yuuri feels a surge of gratitude. He hasn’t had a drink in a year. His relationship with alcohol wasn’t the healthiest and he decided not to drink anymore, least it become a big issue. Phichit has only recently felt comfortable drinking around Yuuri. He was the nicest, kindest, loveliest friend anyone could ask for.

“Do you think he hates me for that?” he asks cautiously. He really hopes not. Phichit polishes off his appletini and shakes his head calmly.

“I think he was totally smitten. I wonder why he didn’t see your guy’s string then and there.”

“The strings appear at different times. It’s not an exact science.” Yuuri shrugs. He’s gotten a little of his soda on his shirt, and really wishes he hadn’t. Victor was meeting them in a few minutes and he wanted to look nice.

Phichit apparently reads minds, because he removes his scarf and positions it so it covers the stain. It’s a colorful, almost gaudy thing, and Yuuri isn’t sure if it looks good on him, but at least he’ll look a little more polished.

“Thanks. You’re a good friend.” Yuuri clinks what remains in his glass with Phichit’s. Victor appears, sees them at the bar, and waves enthusiastically. Yuuri feels something twist in his gut. This guy is so upbeat. Sometimes he’s not sure what to make of it.

“Hey, Victor. I was just telling Yuuri about how we met before!” Phichit blurts. If there were something to hide the movement, Yuuri would have kicked him.

“Oh? You don’t remember?” Victor sits down next to him. He’s close and Yuuri isn’t entirely sure if he wants to lean in or scoot his chair away.

“No. Um, sorry about that. I was really drunk. I don’t drink much anymore.”

_Why would you tell your soulmate this? I suppose it’s better to be upfront._

“Well drunk or not, you danced beautifully,” Victor says diplomatically. He unfolds a napkin to place in his lap “Although not drinking while working in a club sounds difficult.”

“It’s more about dancing to me, than the scene.”

Victor grins. “Yes, that’s how it was to me too. When I first got involved with dance it totally consumed me.”

“You’ve won a lot of awards,” Yuuri supplies. Inwardly he cringes. Victor already knows this!

“I feel like it’s all the same, from here. Once you’re so well known, what is there left to prove? I feel like I’m old news.”

“Are you serious? You’re the best there is!” Yuuri exclaims.

Victor laughs, “I was more inspired by your drunk dancing than I ever was by anything I’ve done! You underestimate yourself. Where did you learn?”

“Minako taught me. She manages this club. I still want to learn more.”

Phichit stands up.

“I’ll let you two talk. I’ll see you at home, Yuuri!”

“Bye, man!” Yuuri calls after him. When he looks back at Victor, he’s giving him a look so warm that it takes him back.

“Why don’t you let me coach you? I’m a good teacher, you know!” Victor reaches for his hand, and Yuuri surprises even himself when he squeezes back.

“I’d like that, Victor.”


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for all the comments/kudos. I hope you guys enjoy :)

“You look so happy.”

Yuri frowns, “Grandpa I always look happy.”

Grandpa smiles. It’s a little bit of a sad smile. “You look elated then, Yurachka.”

Yuri leans further into Otabek. The Altins have a very plush couch. He is currently sitting on it resting some of his weight on Otabek, his hand resting around Otabek’s bicep. It’s a very nice, thick bicep. He feels happy, but he also feels really calm. Otabek’s energy is even and gentle. He thinks of countless times where he was angry and needed something steady. During his senior finals, he had been so nervous of not passing that he had prayed for “anything that will settle me.”

If you had told him then that he’d find solace in a boy this beautiful he would have reacted with all his usual grace.

_Go fuck yourself. There’s no calm for me to find._

Mrs. Altin comes back into the room, and gives a somewhat pointed look to where Yuri’s hand is touching Otabek’s arm. Yuri pulls away instantly, feeling shame licking white hot up his neck. His cheeks heat.

No sooner does he relinquish his hold, Otabek has put an arm over his shoulder. He gives his mother a look.

“Mom. I think it’s reasonable if you want him to stay in the guest bedroom. It’s okay if you don’t want us to make out in front of you or anything, I know Yuri is still 17 and it’s your house. But if he wants to hold hands or cuddle, that’s age appropriate for both of us.” Otabek says, his tone is even, gentle, but above all firm.

“You can’t say all that… Don’t talk to me that way in my house!” She snaps easily. Yuri figures this has been stewing under the surface for ages and it just now bubbling at the surface.

Grandpa gives a polite smile and speaks. He sounds very sincere, probably because he is.

“I may be overstepping terribly here, but I don’t think Otabek was trying to be rude. It’s important with young adults to know where the boundaries are. If he’s respectful of your rules, but still able to speak his mind, I think it really just shows what a wonderful job you’re doing raising him.”

She softens noticeably.

“Of course. I appreciate that, Nikolai. Yuri, I am glad you are here! We will set something up in the guest bedroom. I’m terribly sorry that we don’t have more beds.”

Yuri has already decided that Grandpa, with his bulging discs, is going to get the bed. His back is doing okay currently because of physical therapy, but Yuri would be damned if he made an old man like him sleep on an air mattress.

“Yuri, do you want to ride on the bike?” Otabek asks, suddenly. Yuri instantly thinks of the sleek black motorcycle he’s been admiring in pictures almost as long as he’s wanted to meet Otabek.

“Yes! Hell yeah!” He gets his jacket.

“Do you have a helmet for him?” Grandpa asks Otabek.

“Yeah I have a spare.” Otabek gives Yuri’s shoulder a little squeeze when he passes by to grab the helmets from the closet.

“Splendid! Have fun then boys!” Grandpa says breezily.

“Now, Otabek, don’t go too fast. You are responsible for his safety as well as your own.”

“Yes, mother.”

  
”I’m starting dinner in a few minutes. It’ll be ready in about half an hour. Don’t come home late.”

“Bye, mom! Yuri, you ready?”

Yuri nods. Grandpa’s words echo in his head.

_“Have fun then boys.”_

He hadn’t realized how much freedom he had until he had something to compare it to. He wants to say something to Otabek, maybe something sympathetic, but if he acknowledged that she was a little controlling, Otabek would just feel bad that he’s noticed.

“I’m ready,” he says instead.

In Japan.

Yuuri stirs his dinner around in his bowl, watches the vegetables blend in with the rice, and tries to discourage the emotion swelling up in his chest as he watches Victor telling a very animated story to his parents, who are amused despite their limited English.

They love him.

Yuuri remembers when they had first gone home for breakfast, and Victor’s question just outside the doors to the inn,

“ _Yuuri is there anything about your family’s customs I should know? I know about taking my shoes off indoors, but is there anything else? I don’t want to accidentally offend anyone.”_

Mari had more or less interviewed Victor, with Mom and Dad listening attentively. They weren’t hard-asses in any way, but they wanted to make sure their son’s match was a good person.

Victor had done beautifully. He was complimentary without sounding fake, and his overall sunny outlook made Yuuri very glad he was here. By the time breakfast was over he had an open invitation for dinner as well.

“ _Come over anytime, dear,”_ Mom had said.

Yuuri looked at Victor, gesturing wildly as his father laughed at his story. Mom started gathering empty dishes, and Victor got up to help her.

Is this love? It feels different from his old crushes from school days.

“Yuuri, do you want dessert?”

“No, it’s okay mom.” He’s been trying to eat a little better.

“Are you sure dear? It’s your favorite.”

Victor gives him a knowing look. “I’m planning on working you hard when I start coaching you. So I think you can splurge every so often.” He has the nerve to give Yuuri a little wink at the end of his statement. The thought of learning from the best, spending time with his mate, and of potentially getting in shape sparks excitement thick and bright in his chest.

“Yeah, I think that’s reasonable.” Yuuri says softly. Dinner passes and Victor begins his nightly routine of trying to get Yuuri to either go in the onsen together, or sleep in the same room. It flusters Yuuri like it always does.

It’s probably a given that they’ll eventually sleep together, but Yuuri’s got little to no experience to speak of. He remembers reading about Victor’s many flings in tabloids. It seemed unimaginably empty to sleep with someone you could see wasn’t sharing your string.

Maybe the cheerful exterior held something a little darker, maybe something a bit sad.

_“I feel like it’s all the same, from here. Once you’re so well known, what is there left to prove? I feel like I’m old news.”_

Maybe he doubted himself. Maybe as much as Yuuri doubted himself.

Maybe more.

“We should sleep together! Not anything sexual. Just cuddling!”

Yuuri likes confident, upbeat Victor. It’s refreshing, but it’s the possibly vulnerable Victor that makes him nod his head.

“It’s a queen. We should both fit, but if you hog the blankets, the deal is off.”

Victor’s face lights up in surprised delight. Yuuri finds himself smiling back.

Maybe, just maybe, this will work.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Valentines Day! Thanks for reading and commenting. Enjoy <3

When Isabella’s fingernails have grown out long enough that they don’t look horribly bitten, JJ takes her to a salon to get her nails done. She had it done once before, before everything in her life soured like a bottle of milk left forgotten in the back of the fridge.

Having someone paint her nails cherry red was a luxury, but so was the fridge back home full of food. It all represented everything she hadn’t had access to before. It made her feel like a different person.

All change, even the positive, took time to adjust to.

Isabella finds herself visiting with the woman painting her nails. The woman responds with enthusiasm. It is after her manicure and halfway through her pedicure that Isabella notices that she is the only person really talking to their nail technician, other than JJ. Everyone else seems to just stare at their phones while they are being worked on.

That wasn’t wrong per say, but for a brief moment she feels like maybe she should take pride in the fact that she feels friendly again. She spent a lot of time feeling like people were mostly bad; she’s seen some shit.

Then there’s him. Getting his nails cleaned (but not painted) so he can “look sharp when he plays the guitar.” She isn’t used to men that are confident enough to step foot in a nail salon. She isn’t used to people who tell their nail techs stories and make them laugh. Not used to people treating her to something like this, and leaving both techs with generous tips. His energy is so confident and happy. It’s nice to be in the presence of his motivated spirit.

They go back to the car, Isabella feels silly wearing the flimsy temporary flip-flops they had given her to wear out. She’s been wearing nice shoes lately, nice clothes too.

She thinks of the people at the camp. Some of them had been nice. A few had been sick. Most of them had medical, mental, and dental issues that required almost immediate attention.

She’s sitting in a very expensive car, with red polish on her toenails, about to return to a mansion. She gathers some courage to speak.

“JJ?”

“Yes dear?” Oh boy, she’s never getting used to that.

“I need to help the people at the camp. I feel like I owe them.”

Without missing a beat, JJ nods, casually as ever even with his hands on the wheel. He understands. “What do you think can be done? I suppose we could always hand out food or whatever, or are you thinking something long term? I think we could definitely do something.”

Something swells in her chest. More than simple affection, more than gratitude.

She wants to kiss him.

She needs to tell him first. What she had gone through, and how she ended up in that tent.

“I’m…. I want to tell you how I ended up there.”

JJ nods. “I’m listening, I won’t interrupt.”

In Italy…

Sara stared at the ticket in her hand. She was still unsure of this, and quite frankly Mickey had thrown a fit. Mila’s texts gave her courage, she just wasn’t sure if it was enough.

_Why don’t you visit again?_

Yeah, why doesn’t she? She was doing really well financially right now, and she had a few days of vacation left. It would be cake to head back down to Russia, stay with Mila a few days….

The plane boards soon. She wants to throw away the ticket in her hand and flee. Mickey hadn’t even come to the airport with her; his homophobic ass hadn’t wanted anything to do with this.

She wants Mila: in a few different ways, some she can't even think about. Mila had found a job as a receptionist, and she liked it a lot better than her waiting job. She sounded less stressed on the phone, and looked happy when they video chatted.

They only Skyped when Sara was off, and Mickey was doing something outside the house. She told Mila she can’t guarantee that if he saw them talking he wouldn’t be a total dick about it.

He threatened sometimes to tell their parents. He and Sara were roommates and their parents were worse than Mickey. It kills her to say this, but if she weren’t splitting the bills with him, if he wasn’t dependent on her for survival, he would have told them already.

She can hear it now. Sara’s match is a woman, it isn’t right, it’s sick, they shouldn’t be in contact with each other...

Mila is so tough and so friendly and so pretty. Now that her job isn’t soul crushing, she’s taken on a new aura, one that Sara seeks out like an addict seeks a fix. It just feels nice to talk to her. She wants to be with her in person.

Mickey wasn’t even really okay with them being friends, if they were actually together what would he do? Would it break everything?

Was there a way to have the best of both worlds?

Japan…

“I’m not going to bite you, you know.” Victor’s voice is uncharacteristically soft. Yuuri has the laptop on his lap, playing the credits of a movie. He snaps it shut, sets the laptop on the nightstand. He doesn’t regret telling Victor that he could sleep in his bed, but it’s a little nerve-wracking all the same.

Victor’s side and leg are a warm line against his side. They aren’t cuddling really, but they are so close that it feels meaningful. Yuuri’s never kissed anyone. He was always waiting for that string to show, but now that it’s here and his mate is next to him he still isn’t sure what to do.

“I’m going to interrupt your internal panicking.” Victor says after a few minutes. It occurs to Yuuri that he was waiting for a response to his earlier comment.

“I’m a touchy person.” Victor begins, “I don’t mind people touching me, or kissing me. I don’t even think of sex as that big a deal. That’s how I am.”

Yuuri frowns. He knows this, has seen the tabloids about the beautiful and talented Victor and who he’s let in his bed this week. He feels jealous, and a little mad. What does Victor want, exactly, out of their match?

“If you think I’m going to let you sleep with me just because we’re matched, then I should tell you that I’m not going to do anything I don’t want to do.” Yuuri snaps. The venom in his voice takes even himself aback.

“Oh Yuuri. It was never about not being willing. It was about being too willing. It’s about losing the value of an intimate act because I didn’t care about myself. I felt like since I couldn't see my string I didn't have one. I was safe, I got tested, and if I didn’t get a disease what could it hurt?” Victor shuffles nervously under the sheets. “But you know what? I got hurt.”

Yuuri turns and blinks at Victor. This hadn’t occurred to him.

“You got hurt?”

“Yeah. I hurt myself by not realizing that my feelings had a stake in it too. When people think you’re loose, they think poorly of you, it hurts your reputation. When you realize someone you slept with doesn’t care about you at all, it’s heartbreaking.”

“I hadn’t thought of it that way.” Yuuri admits, “Mostly I just wish I had any experience to speak of. I’m so old not to have done anything.”

Victor smiles, sadly, “no you’re lucky. You can have anyone in the world. You’re young. And innocent. You’re a clean slate, Yuuri.”

“What do you mean anyone in the world? I’m matched to you aren’t I?”

“Yes, of course, but that doesn’t mean I own you. You’re only mine if you decide to be. I’m just hoping I don’t upset you somehow. And I’m hoping you don’t hurt me.”

Yuuri hugs Victor so fast that it startles them both.

“I won’t hurt you. I promise.”

Victor hugs him so tight it almost hurts.

“Can I kiss you Victor?”

“Of course, but you don’t have to.”

Their first kiss is clumsy. It’s ugly to be perfectly honest. Yuuri feels like he isn’t sure when to breathe, so he feels like he’s all choked up, but maybe that’s emotion. By the time he gets his heartbeat to stop thudding like he’s run a marathon, the kiss has slowed and sweetened into something else entirely different. They press together, and when he opens his eyes, Victor looks just like he feels.

_I won’t hurt you. I promise._


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the comments and kudos! I'm hoping all the different stories within the story aren't getting confusing. I kinda like the style of Durarara where they jump around, so hopefully this is still fairly easy to follow XD Enjoy!

In Canada….

“It’s hard to explain. Everything just went south.” 

JJ sips at his soda. They had gone through a drive thru, parked to eat their burgers and Isabella feels really weird eating in his car. She doesn’t know how much exactly a car like this costs, but she’ll die before she gets ketchup on anything. She feels like maybe he doesn’t quite realize how much this car is truly worth. Not just the leather seats and chrome buttons, but the fact that he can go anywhere he wants and afford the fuel.

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to,” he says gently after a minute. He looks silly with the straw touching his bottom lip, and she is again (for the millionth time this week) tempted to kiss him. Would be a lot better than telling him about her past.

“I didn’t get along that well with my parents. They weren’t terrible people, but I never really felt close to them. I never got taken care of, and when I was 16 I moved out. I lived at a friends house. I used to sleep in the chair. I thought it was cool, because I was an ‘adult’ or whatever, but I never finished high school.” Isabella says. Her throat already feels tight and she hasn’t even gotten into it. It’s a given that she’s going to cry telling him all of this, but she still wants to avoid it if she can.

“Anyways. Eventually the people I was with starting talking about their strings. How excited they were that they had matches. All my friends saw their strings around their freshman year or sooner, and I still didn’t have mine. I kept hoping I’d see mine, but it never happened. I got really discouraged. I kinda… gave up.”

JJ puts his drink in the cup holder so he has a free hand to lace their fingers together. It’s this that makes her feel truly emotional.

“I was a high school dropout. It was really hard to find work, so I kinda went place to place, couch to couch. I never really felt like I belonged anywhere. It was scary because a few people I lived with stole my belongings or abused drugs. A guy tried to assault me a little after my 18th birthday. I scratched him bloody and ran for it. I’ve never really….” she sniffs, “Shit. I’m sorry.”

JJ gives her hand a squeeze. “Safe. You’ve never really felt safe.”

Cue the waterworks. It’s like the breaking of a crashing wave on the shore. Loud, messy, and completely overwhelming.

“I kept trying to find another couch, or a cheap weekly, or motel. Or a job, but when I started to look dirty nobody would hire me, wouldn’t even look at me. It just… all of a sudden, there were no solutions. It felt like the world didn’t want me, couldn’t see me.”

JJ tugs her over to him. The contact is instantly soothing. He feels solid in both form and spirit.

“You wanna go small? Like passing out food? Or do you wanna go big as in banging on the Prime Ministers door?”

Isabella holds on. She believes in very few people. JJ feels like an exception.

“Let’s go as big as they’ll let us, and then a little more.”

In Kazakhstan…..

“So have you thought more about taking ballet from Lilia?” Otabek asks, softly. Yuri is sitting between his legs, Otabek’s steady hand untangling the knots the ride on the motorcycle had inflicted on Yuri’s windblown hair. His question is as gentle as his hands.

  
”It’s the second thing I think of when I get up in the morning.” Yuri admits. “Ow!”

“Sorry, You really should braid your hair next time. I’m scared I’ll break the brush. What’s the first thing you think of when you wake up, just out of curiosity.”

_How much I want to kiss your beautiful face._

“Just how happy I am to be around you.” It’s a half answer, carefully crafted not to tell his hand. It seems to satisfy Otabek though, because he puts down the brush to give Yuri a little squeeze.

“I think you should. Take ballet again I mean. It’s good to have an outlet. I can see you now. I bet you could be great. Aren’t there any dancers you looked up to? When you were doing it?”

Yuri doesn’t even need to think about it.

“When I was young, Grandpa would take me to events. I really liked Victor Nikiforov.”

“That sounds familiar.”

“He’s pretty famous, so even people outside the dance world have heard of him. The way he moves is incredible. It’s like it’s his calling. But then he stopped dancing. Became a model instead. Just uprooted his life. I actually met him once. I was competing and he said I was good. He said he would be happy to choreograph something for me. But I never really got a chance to, and now he’s a model and I’m not sure if he would even teach me.”

Otabek hums thoughtfully behind him. He rubs his thumb over Yuri’s arm raising goosebumps pleasantly to the surface; his chest is warm against Yuri’s back.

“Well there has to be someone else, that could teach you.”

“Well, there was one. But he was… I wanna say awful, because he messed everything up, but it’s like… it was like how in my math class, I set the equation up properly but I did the addition wrong. Like he had a great form and whatever but the nerves fucked him up. I felt bad for him, but it made me mad. How is it that he was so naturally talented and he wasn’t at full capacity. Like he didn’t know what he had?”

Otabek nods. “Well, sometimes we don’t know our own worth.”

In Hasetsu..

“I think you should try really hard to not get scared off.”

“I’m not.” Yuuri says a little heatedly, “I just don’t know how it would work, We live in different countries for crying out loud!”

“You’re just saying that because you feel like you don’t deserve him.” Phichit is lacing up his boots when he says this, but even without looking directly at Yuuri, his statement is pointed enough that it makes Yuuri uncomfortable.

It’s not a bad uncomfortable. Not really. Phichit never crosses Yuuri’s boundaries. This is the uncomfortable that pushes him to be better. It’s the kind that makes him work harder, play harder, that kinda of push associated with change.

“It’s just scary because he lives so far away.” Yuuri admits, touching up his eyeliner. Maybe he does still feel like Victor is too good for him. But he’s not entirely ready to admit that aloud, if he can be perfectly honest.

It’s a process, he supposes.

“I feel bad because his manager called and yelled at him. He’s pissed because Vitya up and left to find ‘a piece of ass.’” Yuuri’s voice trembles on the last few words.

“He said what?! No! No, Yuuri, the people that used Victor’s fame for themselves, took advantage of his optimism and hurt his feelings: those are the people who are a piece of ass. You are his soulmate, You ALWAYS will be. If you let people like that bring you down, it never ends well.” Phichit is so easy going that seeing him fired up is a little intense.

“I’m not like them. They were so attractive and wonderful, and talented. I outweigh every person I’ve seen him in a tabloid with”

“No. Yuuri you _are_ all those things. What do I have to do to make you see that? You deserve Victor. When you get into a relationship you shouldn’t ask if you deserve them, you should ask if they deserve _you._ And if your weight bothers you so much, then do something about it! I'll even do it with you. Hey, we gotta go on!”

The curtain opens and Yuuri doesn’t have to fake his smile. Maybe Phichit was right, maybe he was too hard on himself.

He finds Victor in the audience, who winks at him.

_I’m dancing for you. I hope you know that._


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the kudos and comments, means a lot! I hope you guys enjoy, let me know what you think of my new Mila/Sara development ;)

“You’ve got a lot on your mind.” Minako says. It’s not a question. She’s about 2 and a half drinks in, still more in tune to Yuuri than he’d like, her hands are steady like she’s not drinking at all.

“I’m sorry. I know work is important. I just…”

“You have Victor in town. Distractions aren’t necessarily a bad thing. When’s he going back, anyway?”

“Soon.” Yuuri feels himself deflating even as he says it. It’s been like a dream having Victor, his soulmate here. To have the visit coming to a close left a sour taste in his mouth.

His mind helpfully reminds him of when Victor had met Yuko and the triplets, how cute he had been with them. He would make a terrific father. Maybe if they lived in the same place they could…

What? Get married? Adopt kids? Was it really going to work out? What if…

Minako thwacks him upside the head.

“Stop that. Stop thinking like that.”

“How did you know?” Yuuri demands softly, rubbing at his ear.

“Please, how long have I been your teacher? Whenever you get quiet for more than a minute you’re torturing yourself.”

“Do you… are you mad that Victor is teaching me now? I’ll still be your student.” Yuuri’s been worried about this for awhile now.

“Victor’s better than I ever will be. Pick his brain for both of us, it’ll be a good experience.” Minako finishes her drink and leans on the bar. “You’re allowed to be happy you know.”

“I… I know.”

“Then let yourself. You have the power to get almost anything you want. So do it.”

“Minako?”

“Yeah?”

“I want to lose weight. I want to feel better about myself. I want to get heavily into dance again.”

“Then let’s do it. If you want you can stop by the studio anytime. We can both train you.” She fixes him with a smile. “You know, you’re a very capable person Yuuri.”

If you say so, Yuuri thinks. He’s really enjoyed Victor coaching him. He knew a lot of basics from Minako already, but Victor’s teachings made him think of dance from a totally different angle.

All this talk about Eros. It wasn’t like Yuuri to feel sexual, even with dancing at the club, and yet here he was, starting to wonder if he had some Eros in him after all. The way Victor had him dance made him feel decadent, dirty maybe. It was strange, and yet Yuuri wanted more of it.

It was a little scary, but Yuuri had decided recently that being scared was no longer a reason to not do things. If they were a match, he’d give it his all. He could see in Victor’s every lesson that he got more joy out of dancing than most people got out of their entire lives.

What hurt him so badly that he felt the need to leave it behind?

Kazakhstan...

Otabek was starting to snore. Yuri had watched him start to nod off even while they were still holding hands, his eyes drooping, even as he insisted he really just wanted to be awake with Yuri. It was Yuri’s third day here, and he was already dreading going back on that plane. They could text and video chat all they wanted, but nothing was going to substitute feeling Otabek’s hand slowing relaxing in his as he fell asleep.

Yuri has his phone in his other hand. It’s on silent so as to not disrupt his soulmates sleep, but Mila’s texting him.

_Hey hag! What do you want?_

_How’re things with lover boy?_

Yuri smiles a little. She always knows when he’s joking.

_He’s awesome; I wish I could go to one of his gigs though._

_When’s the next one?_

Yuri sighs.

_He’s taking a nap. He’s going to one tonight. He wanted to cancel since he had me here and I can’t get in, but I guess it’s important and he can’t bail. His mom would never let me go. Neither would Grandpa. Actually I'm surprised his mom lets HIM go._

_Yuri… just go. Do it. It’s the last night. If it’s awkward in the morning, you’re leaving soon anyways._

Yuri frowns. _I don’t want his mother to think badly of me._

There’s a pause as Mila types.

_From what you’ve told me she already does._

Yuri sighs heavily. Yeah he thinks so.

Spending time with Otabek was wonderful. They had so much in common, endless things to talk about. Even running to the store was fun when he was with Otabek. He's never clicked with anyone quite like this. Mila was a good friend, but this thing with Otabek was amazing.

Mama Altin did not approve. He knew that much for certain. She texted Otabek often when they were running around, asking when they’d be home, and she had already come into Otabek’s room twice tonight to check on them. Yuri wasn’t allowed to sleep in Otabek’s room and vice versa, but it’s not like they were fucking. They hadn’t even kissed yet,

He really wants to. He wants it badly. It was just hard because if she wasn’t there, Grandpa was. Grandpa was considerably easier to work around because he wasn’t hostile to the whole thing. The match didn't upset him like it did Mrs. Altin. He was excited that Yuri was happy, and it meant the world.

_Mila, I don’t know. Isn’t Sara’s family against your match too?_

_Yeah completely. She came to visit. She’s here now, and Yuri? I did something really stupid._

_How stupid?_

Mila types for a long time, but then only sends two words. Whatever story she wanted to tell she was obviously not ready to spill the beans.

_Impossibly stupid._

Earlier in Russia…

Mila feels like her heart is in her throat. Sara’s coming, and while Mila is excited to see her, she can feel sweat; cold and clammy on her body.

Does Mickey know Sara’s here? Is Sara going to regret this?

Does Sara regret Mila? Is she coming to terms with the fact that her match is a woman?

Sara didn’t even tell Mila she was coming until the last minute. She even told Mila not to meet her at the airport, just asked for directions. With some quick thinking Mila had tidied up her place, then gotten a little makeup on, and then there had been a knock on the door.

Sara is in her arms, and talking, the minute she opens the door.

“I’m tired of Mickey telling me what to do. I’m tired of my parents telling me I’m messing up my career and that I need to do this, or do that.”

“Understandable.” Mila starts. Sara cuts her off.

“Just once, I want to do something without anyone knowing, something big, and without asking permission.” She has her hands on Mila’s hips. Mila understands in an instant.

“I don’t want to take advantage of your feelings. You’re feeling rebellious…and this… this is something you want to do for the right reasons.”

Sara shakes her head. “It was a long flight, and that was all I could think of.”

Mila’s not sure who kisses who first, but it’s by far one of the best kisses she’s had. It’s wild and desperate, and so sticky sweet and soft around the edges. Mila can feel the bond in her every pore, from head to toe. She wants to be as close as humanly possible. 

This isn’t Mila’s first rodeo. It’s pretty normal for someone to mess around, while waiting for their match to show up. Sara’s pretty innocent though, sheltered all her life, so maybe she’s inexperienced.

By the time Sara’s dress has slid to the floor, Mila’s not worried about it anymore. Her doubts surface as one little thought as they undress each other.

_I really hope she doesn’t regret this._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jumping into sex felt really in character for me for these two. They are just so passionate, and rebellious that it made a lot of sense to me XD I hope these girls communicate tho, because sex without communication can go south pretty fast :/ Let me know what you guys think :)


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really excited about this story now that some of the plot is coming together! I have a feeling it's going to be a long story, which also excites me <3 Thanks for all the comments and kudos, y'all are awesome. Please enjoy!

The bass is strong even outside the club, traveling up from Yuri’s shoes to the ends of his fingers and the tips of his painted eyelashes, pulsing in him like his blood, which is thrumming too. He had taken Mila’s advice and snuck out to Otabek’s gig. Mama Altin would be furious. He has to do everything possible to make sure he isn’t caught.

Grandpa knows. Yuri had been tiptoeing out the door, and saw movement out of the corner of his eye. Grandpa had spoken with humor lacing his every word.

_“You probably won’t be able to get in with your ID, but if you do, please don’t drink.”_

_“You’re not stopping me?”_

_“I can't stop you. You’re very stubborn, and you’re almost of age anyways. Does Otabek drink_?”

_“I don’t know.”_

_“If he doesn’t, have him bring you home. If he does drink, call me, and I’ll come get you.”_

“ID please!”

Fuck. His ID says he’s 17, because he is.

“I was actually supposed to just meet up with Otabek. He’s playing tonight.”

“Nice try.” The bouncer scoffs. Yuri holds his ground. He’s glad he looks hot tonight. Well, semi hot. Maybe if the bouncer likes dudes, it’ll help. He didn’t pack any club wear in his luggage, but ripped jeans and a black tank looked good on almost anyone. He had bought eyeliner at the corner store. It didn’t matter because he probably wasn’t going to get in.

“Hey man! What are you doing, Otabek needs your help!!”

Whoa, who are you? Yuri is perplexed until he realizes that the stranger is helping.

“Sorry. I lost my wallet a week ago and hadn’t gotten a replacement ID yet, I’m sure Otabek can vouch for me.” Yuri lies easily.

“I see.” The bouncer frowns. He turns to the stranger. “Who’s your friend if you two know each other?”

Crap.

“That is Yuri. Yuri Plisetsky. He’s Otabek’s soulmate.”

What the actual fuck? Yuri quickly schools his face to not show his own shock.

“Okay.” The doorman stamps Yuri’s hands. Crap, he’ll have to wash that off later before Otabek’s mom sees. It’s kinda sad that Grandpa’s okay with him being here and not her.

The stranger throws an arm around Yuri as they enter the club. Yuri bristles, but his new ‘friend’ doesn’t seem to notice.

“I saw Otabek tonight and he talked about you. We’re doing a collab tonight with his mixes and my band. I’m not from here, but I like to travel.”

“Why did you two talk about me? You know each other?”

“Otabek’s bigger in the music industry than you’d think. He downplays it. Plus, we both recently met our mates. Speak of the devil! Isabella, there you are, honey!”

An attractive woman comes up to them. She gives the man a fond glance as she takes his hand.

“The line to the bathroom is scary. Who’s your friend?”

“This is Yuri, he’s Otabek’s match. You know, the DJ.”

“And you are?” Yuri demands softly.

“Oops! Sorry. I’m JJ! People usually recognize me from my band.”

“Oh. Maybe I just listen to better music.” The minute the jab is out of Yuri’s mouth, he realizes it’s rude. JJ laughs though; hard and loud.

“It’s very possible. C’mon, Yuri. M’lady. Let’s find you some good seats to watch your men rock out.”

Isabella looks at Yuri and pointedly rolls her eyes.

Otabek sees him and his jaw drops. He hurries over,

“You’re underage! Does your Grandpa know that you’re here?”

“I’m not going to drink, I swear, and yeah he knows. Your mom doesn’t know.”

Otabek gives him a hug. He’s toasty warm under the strobe lights.

“I don’t care what she thinks.”

“Don’t you though?” Yuri laughs. It seems to touch a nerve. Otabek stiffens a little, sighs.

“I don’t want to care; she’s starting to get in my way. I… maybe we can talk about this afterwards. I’m excited to show you my set. Just stick with Isabella. JJ and I will see you after the set.” Otabek gives Yuri a swift kiss on his forehead. “Gotta go. I need to go on.”

“Okay. Love you, have fun.”

Oops.

“Wait. What did you just say?” Otabek stops walking mid stride and looks straight at him. He looks almost puzzled.

“It… it was an automatic thing.” Yuri’s cheeks feel hot. “But I do, though. Just for the record.”

Otabek closes the distance again and gathers him up so close and so tight that Yuri almost feels like he’s going to cry. Nobody has ever held him like this, not someone who wasn’t family. It’s a secure feeling, one he instantly enjoys.

“Love you too. I gotta do a sound check. Lemme know what you think of the show..” He gives Yuri an extra little squeeze and goes off.

_He loves me. It shouldn’t be surprising since we’re mates, but wow. That’s really pretty freaking cool._

“So! How’d you meet Otabek?” Isabella asks when they were seated.

“It’s a crazy story.”

“I bet you it wasn’t as crazy as mine.” Isabella laughs.

They wait for the show to start, trading stories almost too strange to be believed.

Russia…..

“I’m making you uncomfortable, aren’t I?”

“No, you’re fine.” Lilia smooths her skirt down. It’s a nervous habit, meant to self soothe. “I never had children with Dimitri because I am not able to. It’s okay you asked.”

Yakov smiles an awkward little smile. She’s gotten fond of his smiles, some awkward some sad. All of them resonate in her chest like an answered prayer.

“Well, then that’s that. We can’t help those things.” Yakov nods as he states this, almost to emphasize the sentiment. He’s accepting of everything she tells him. It’s lovely.

Initially when they met for coffee, she would talk about Dimitri and the accident, but she started to feel selfish. Yakov was a hard working person, stern, but well mannered and above all the type of person who never gave up. He was by the book. Much like Lilia was.

The more time she spent with him the more she wondered about his romantic past.

“Have you ever been married?” She asks suddenly. He struggles not to spit his tea. If she wasn’t concerned about upsetting him, it would be funny to watch.

“I never saw my string until recently.”

“When I pulled on it angrily you mean?” Lilia jests.

“No. When you were coming before I could see it. When I was working I’d see it connecting us. There were a few weeks where I was aware, but you were not.”

“Are you being serious? How many weeks?” Lilia puts down her coffee mug.

Yakov pauses.

“How many weeks?” She demands.

“Six.”

Six. He knew she was his soulmate for six weeks, and for six weeks respected her pain.

“You were trying to give me time?”

“Yes. If you were grieving, it was not time. I didn’t want to impose on your loss. What was I supposed to do? You’re my match. It’s my duty as a man to do what’s best for you.”

Lilia breathes in. She feels happy. More than happy. Touched even. The lack of pressure to be with her new mate made it easier for her to consider it.

“Let’s do something more than coffee, next week. When are you free for dinner?”

Japan…..

“You’re so flexible.”

“You know, I feel dirty when you say things like that.” Yuuri complains, lightly.

“Would it help if I say I had a dream where….”

“Victor! No!” Yuuri pulls out of the stretch and gives his mate a light smack. Victor laughs, tugs him into a kiss to silence him. Yuuri’s lost count of how many times they’ve kissed. It feels like breathing or walking a path you’ve walked many times before: familiar and comfortable.

“Mm! You’re skills have improved.” Victor mumbles between their mouths.

Yuuri snickers. “With dance? Or with kissing?”

“Yes.” Victor laughs.

“You laugh like a schoolgirl.”

“Not true! You just make me feel so young.”

“You are young! You’re not that much older than me.” Yuuri teases. Victor smiles, breaks away. He looks a little sad all of a sudden.

“I need to go back soon. I need to convince my manager not to drop me because I off and left.”

Yuuri’s heart stops. He knew Victor’s agent had been angry at his sudden absence, but he hadn’t realized how bad it was.

“Let me come with you. If he wants to bully you, I’ll be there too.”

“Yuuri, I don’t want to put you in any uncomfortable situations. The modeling industry is ugly sometimes.”

“Then let me help.” Yuuri says urgently. “I can back you up. I can be in your corner.”

Victor sighs. He gives Yuuri another kiss, one that lingers a long time.

“Okay, if you’re sure. I’ll buy the tickets”

Yuuri nods, determined in a way he’s not used to. Victor is his soulmate and if this manager wants to give him grief, he’s got another thing coming.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Grandpa might seem really laid back about Yuri sneaking out but my parents were like that when I was in my rebellious stage and it wasn't so much that they encouraged me to sneak out, it was more like "if you do we aren't happy, but we will pick your drunk butt up anywhere in town" and honestly that kept me safe/alive through a lot of my teens and twenties. So I hope that makes sense that Grandpa is kinda like that too.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the feedback and kudos as always, this chapter has some conflict, which honestly I struggle with, it's hard to write for me IDK, anyways enjoy? XD

Watching Otabek perform, seeing the lights dance, feeling the music pulsing in his body, while knowing that they loved each other was like a decadent dream. Yuri didn’t care if Otabek’s mom got mad, her judgmental ass could go to hell for all he cared, not that he’d tell Otabek that. By the time Otabek and JJ, (and JJ’s band) had rejoined them they were all glistening with sweat from the mass of people in the club, and Yuri’s feet were sore and tender from dancing so long.

Leo was on drums and was from America, Georgi and JJ both played guitar and JJ was the head singer. Georgi was from Russia, so Yuri ended up talking to him, only to receive an earful about his ex, who had apparently cut him deep. It was hard to shake him, so he stuck by Otabek’s side and tried not to snap when he got tired of hearing it. They stayed until someone told them that they needed to wrap it up, as the club was closing soon.

It was very late, to say the least, when they walked to the bike.

Otabek’s phone rings. He swears when he sees the caller ID.

“I’ll be home sooner if you let me drive,” he grumbles into the phone. Yuri knows it’s gotta be you-know-who. He watches Otabek stop walking, hand rubbing at his face.

“Mom, honestly, I don’t even care.”

Yuri grimaces. It’s somehow worse hearing it just from one end.

“Yes, I know he is, but his Grandpa was okay with him being out. He actually trusts him.” Otabek bites out. “Do you really think I would do anything to hurt Yuri? He didn’t drink, because neither of us felt comfortable with that. I didn’t drink so I could drive home. If you knew anything about me, anything at all, you’d be proud of who I am, and maybe even happy that I’ve met my soulmate, but all you do is bitch about how bad the world is, and how scared you are for me to get hurt like dad, but you don’t know me. You don’t know me at all.”

Yuri wants to take Otabek’s hand where it’s balled tight in a fist, and smooth it out in his own until the tension left. He wants to grab the phone and hang up on her, and power it off so he doesn’t have to hear her trying to call back.

He doesn’t have a chance to before Otabek throws the phone.

“Hey! Come here.” Yuri gathers up the phone, now cracked, and reaches for his mate. Otabek looks ruffled like an animal that’s been backed into a corner, angry and on the defense. He looks wild, but at the same time very tired.

“Guess what Yuri, I’m putting you in danger. By not drinking, not having sex, and not doing drugs. Apparently that’s enough. Like fuck, I was going to drive you back, but now I’m not supposed to come home.”

Yuri freezes. “She told you not to come home?”

“Yeah. Said if I was big and old enough to ‘act like a crazy person’ I could go ahead and find somewhere to crash for the night.”

Yuri blinks. This doesn’t make sense for a parent to say. Distantly he remembers one night where he had run away. On his 8th birthday actually….

_He was tired of running, but he was also tired of wanting Mama here. He wasn’t able to be with Mama, even though it was his birthday, and he had tried to run off to see her. Grandpa had said that they shouldn’t visit the graveyard today since the weather was so bad, but Yuri wanted to see Mama. He was angry that she wasn’t here, angry at how sad he felt._

_He was most angry that Grandpa wouldn’t let him go. It was dumping buckets and buckets of rain, and he had said, “tomorrow Yuri, she’ll still be there, she won’t mind if we wait.”_

_Yuri didn’t want to wait. He left while Grandpa snoozed on the couch, and ran until he was lost and his clothes were wet, and he was soaked to the bone._

_Grandpa found him. Drove the car after him, going slow, calling out to him until Yuri got in the car and let him take him home._

“I know you’re angry, but we need to go home. If we go home we don’t have to get along, we don’t even need to look at each other, or talk, but it’s dangerous to be on your own, and I want you to be safe.”

Otabek gives him a curious look.

“That’s what Grandpa said once.” Yuri shrugs. “I think staying out downtown past 3 am is far more dangerous than facing your mom. You have a house key, right? Grandpa will be there, if she wants to say something. He won’t let you get trampled on.”

“I don’t…” Otabek fidgets, “I don’t want to deal with her right now. She always knows exactly what to say to make me mad or upset me. But I would rather die than put you in a bad position.”

“Then come with us.” JJ suggests quietly. “The band and Isabella and I have a few rooms at a hotel. It’s a nice one too, not a motel. You’re going back tomorrow right?”

“Yeah the flight back to Russia is at 10.” Yuri sighs. He can’t believe the trip is almost over.

JJ claps his hands. “Awesome. We can get you back to Otabek’s in time to leave. Maybe Grandpa can help pack up, and you can just bail in the morning.”

Yuri sees some merit to that plan. He pulls his own phone out and dials Grandpa.

“How mad is she?” he says instead of hello.

“She’s unreasonable. I would prefer you both home. It’s very late, and you should rest before the flight. I will try and talk to her, but you should come home. I can calm her down.”

“JJ, well Otabek’s friend, offered for us to stay the night. He thinks it may be good to have some space.”

“That’s not a terrible idea, might help diffuse the situation. Let me speak to him.”

“JJ?”

“If you’re going to sleep at his hotel, I need to know a few things.”

Yuri hands the phone to JJ. He and Grandpa talk a few minutes, JJ offering a steady stream of ‘yes sirs’ and ‘no sirs.” Eventually he hands the phone over to Yuri.

“I don’t want you to make any impulsive decisions. I know the conflict will make you and Otabek both a bit rebellious. JJ seems like a great guy, but if you start to feel uncomfortable, call. I am a little angry that she can’t be reasoned with, and I’m frustrated that you’re not coming home. I am here if you need me. Please try to calm Otabek down, so they can talk in the morning. We want to do damage control at this point.”

“I won’t do anything illegal or stupid. I just want to let Otabek calm down, he seems really upset.”

“Understood. Call me if you need anything. Can you have Otabek give me his number too? JJ’s too if possible.”

Yuri gets the numbers and relays it to Grandpa, before hanging up. JJ starts driving with Isabella and his band to the hotel, and Otabek follows on the bike. His shoulders and back are stiff and tense where Yuri holds onto him as they ride. It breaks his heart a little.

Whatever happens tonight, he will make Otabek feel better. He’s not sure how, is all. For now he just leans in tight, close and warm until his face is pillowed against Otabek’s shoulder.

Hopefully for the ride to the hotel, that in itself was enough.

Russia…

When Mila wakes up the bed is empty. Immediately she panics. Where is Sara? She checks in the bathroom, but no luck.

If she left for Italy spur of the moment after last night, Mila’s not sure if she’d scream or cry.

Eggs… She smells eggs.

“Shit…” She hears Sara swear.

“Are you cooking?” She calls out into the kitchen, peering over the corner she sees Sara, clad in her dress from last night, mascara a little smudged, grumbling over a pan of eggs.

“I was trying to make you an omelette but I always break them when I flip them.” Sara sighs. She kisses Mila’s stunned face. “I hope you like scrambled eggs.”

Mila’s heart leaps. Her soul resonates joy like something bright and sparkling.

“You stayed. I didn’t think you would stay.” Mila says softly. She immediately curses herself when Sara frowns.

“You really think I’d leave just like that?”

“No! I mean….” Mila feels like she’s spoiling things. “I know things are hard.”

Sara turns off the burner, and searches for a plate to put their eggs on.

“I was thinking that things don’t need to be hard. We’re mates. If we want to kiss or have sex, or see each other, then Mickey doesn’t need to know.”

Oh, so it’s a secret? Fantastic. Maybe this is as good as it’s going to get, for now at least.

Mila’s not going to spoil this. She can be patient. She’s never been great at keeping secrets, but she doesn’t want Sara to be unhappy.

“Stop worrying.” Sara takes her face in her hands and kisses her so soft, and so sweet that Mila forgets her worries. It’s as effervescent as slipping into a bubble bath, fizzy and light. When the kiss deepens Mila immediately wonders if Sara would be up for a _real_ bubble bath. Preferably one where they didn’t get dressed afterwards, not for a long time.

“Okay.” Mila wraps her arms around Sara’s neck, a breath apart. “I’ll try.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really don't wanna have a 'bad guy' because I don't want this to be as dark as the From Here On Out series, but conflict happens within families sometimes *shrugs* Lemme know what you guys think.


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the kudos and comments! Means a lot, I hope you guys like this chapter!

“Do you think he’ll be okay?”

“I think so.” JJ smiles, brightly. It’s beautiful how he can be up this late and still be this sunny. It made Isabella want to spend every night just watching him; being by his side brought her happiness. He even made their late night food run seem fun, and not bothersome. The band was back at the suite, and Otabek and Yuri were probably talking about what had happened. Everyone had been hungry after dancing so long, and JJ had volunteered to get something quick and greasy for everyone.

“I think she’s crazy.” Isabella adds heatedly. “It’s like, I get it. Otabek is her only kid, Yuri is a minor hanging out at a nightclub. I can see why that would upset a mother. But to get mad and basically say, ‘go sleep somewhere else?’ that’s so stupid!”

JJ pays for their massive order. He shrugs, “Otabek and Yuri are only 3 years apart. You have to be 21 to drink here, and he’s only 20. So technically he shouldn’t have been out either. How he DJ’s without getting in trouble, I’m not sure. Also to be fair, she did call him like 5 minutes later telling him she was sorry for losing her cool. She told him he was always welcome and that she wanted him home and…”

“Still shouldn’t have said it.” Isabella snarls.

  
”Hitting home?” JJ asks quietly.

“Words, especially words from a parent last forever. If my parents had been a little nicer, I would have stayed and finished high school. Had a real life.”

“You _do_ have a real life. You are in a place now that you can give back.”

“I don’t even know how to do that.” Isabella sighs. They make their way to the car. Isabella sits and checks to make sure the order is correct.

“I’ve been doing some research about helping homeless people.” JJ yawns loudly. “There are a lot of ways, but it’s a really complex issue. When I go on tour I’m going to get an advance, and I’m wondering if maybe I can talk to someone about my options.”

“Like for donating food?”

“No, more like funding a project like the tiny homes project, or maybe a low income apartment complex. I have a lot saved up and I could always get a loan… Isabella! Breathe!”

Isabella coughs up the soda she inhaled while he gently thumps her on the back.

“You’re going to build an apartment complex! How much money do you even have? No, don’t answer that. I don’t want to know.”

“I mean, it’s a reach, even for me.”

It was one thing to stay in his lavish home and for fans to stop them on the streets, but it was easy to forget that JJ was famous and could potentially fund a project like this when he spent most of his money on fast food and diet coke.

“You okay?”

“Yeah.” She finishes choking. She feels touched, so incredibly touched that he would do something like this, for her, no for others, people he hasn’t even met, doesn’t even know.

“I want to help fund it too. I don’t want you to fit the whole bill. Not for something like this. I love you for doing this, but let me earn my keep a little. I’ll get a job somewhere.” She has little experience, but there were a lot of entry-level jobs.

She looks at him and tries to read his response. She’s expecting him to tell her she doesn’t need a job, that he’ll handle things, but he looks happy, not argumentative.

“You love me?” he asks instead.

Isabella snorts, “of course I do. Why do you think I’ve stuck around so long?”

“Can I kiss you then? Since, you know you _love_ me.”

Isabella smiles, rolls her eyes a little, but meets him in the middle. She’s kissed plenty of people. When she gave up on her life she didn’t really care who she kissed, but it never felt natural. It was always awkward, always off somehow. Their breath would stink, or she would get distracted. She’s never really cared about kissing because it’s never been anything but ordinary. It didn’t even feel that personal.

The moment JJ kisses her, her mind goes blank with how personal it was, how much chemistry she feels with him. It felt so natural, so easy, and nothing in her life was EVER easy. She could kiss anyone in the world, string aside, but she wasn’t looking for a kiss, she was looking for peace of mind, somewhere she belonged. She smiles into the kiss, because it still blows her mind that she belongs with someone this good.

When he pulls away he looks downright giddy.

“I love you too, Bella.”

It’s not like she needs anymore proof other than the little red thread they’re sharing, but it’s nice all the same.

She wants to kiss him more, but she doesn’t want to keep the others waiting for their food for too long.

“I suppose we should get the food back to the room.”

“Wouldn’t hurt to hang out here a few minutes. I mean there’s not much privacy with everyone back at home.”

“Jean Jacque Leroy are you asking me to make out in your car?”

JJ shrugs, smiling so broad his teeth gleam.

“It’s too bad there was such a long line at the restaurant. And so much traffic…” Isabella snorts.

“Yes. Really unfortunate.”

At the hotel…

“I wonder if they got into an accident.” Yuri muses. There is no answer. The band went to bed in the neighboring suite awhile ago and it’s been just him and Otabek now.

Otabek is lying on the hotel room’s second bed, and Yuri isn’t sure whether or not he should touch him. He’s stiffer than a corpse and twice as silent. Yuri could feel the cranky energy pouring off of him.

His mom sucked, which had upset Otabek, but could Yuri say ‘your mom sucks’ to Otabek without upsetting him?

He’s never been the best at comfort, or talking about feelings.

Otabek’s not asleep, Yuri can tell by his breathing, even if his eyes are closed, he’s faking. He’s been thinking about it a lot today, how good JJ and Isabella look together, how complimentary. He sees how Isabella fits neatly under his arm, and how JJ postures himself so that his screaming fans can’t touch her.

He’s her protector. Yuri wants that. More specifically he wants to be Otabek’s protector. His mom claims to be protecting him, but she goes about it the wrong way. She’s more about control than actually protecting him.

Therefore, there was an opening. Someone needed to believe in Otabek, and trust his judgment. Someone needed to help him move through life with confidence and someone needed to make sure nobody messed with him.

Yuri was going to be that person. He was going to be Otabek’s protector, and Otabek was going to be his.

Yuri lies down. “You awake?”

No answer.

Yuri swallows, gathers courage, and reaches out. Otabek startles a little, so maybe he was starting to sleep after all. He pulls Otabek into him, letting him rest his face in the crook of his neck. Otabeks exhales shakily. Yuri pets at his hair, soft like he’s handling something fragile.

Otabek wasn’t fragile, not really, but being treated with care was sometimes something everybody needed, regardless of how strong they really were. He sits for a minute, just petting, letting his breath fall on the top of his head, trying to be soothing.

“Why doesn’t she trust me?” Otabek eventually asks, “I try so hard to be the man of the house, since he’s gone, but she never gives me a chance to be anything more than a child.”

Yuri’s not sure what to say, so he presses a kiss to Otabek’s hair. He elects not to comment when his neck starts feeling wet, droplet by droplet. He just continues to pet. Soft. Steady.

“I’m so frustrated.”

“I think you’re very trustworthy,” Yuri offers eventually, “I think this issue with you two is more about her than you. She’s being stupid. She’s out of line. I wish you could come back with us.”

“ Can I? I have enough saved for my own ticket. Do you think your grandpa would be okay with it?” Otabek asks softly. He takes Yuri’s hand in his.

“I don’t think he’d mind, but I’d have to ask.” Yuri admits. “I’ll call in the morning if you like.” They look at each other; gaze soft. Yuri wants to kiss him, but he’s not sure….

The door bursts open. JJ and Isabella are laughing. The smell of food is welcome even as Yuri silently curses them for ruining the moment. Otabek eats his food and lies down again, curling up next to Yuri. They fall asleep before they have a chance to get under the covers, Otabek’s sleep warmed body keeps him comfortable. The bond feels less cold than usual, less serene, less calm and Yuri can only guess it’s his due to his stress being high. He holds him nonetheless, and by the time he gets up it feels almost normal.

When Yuri wakes up he calls Grandpa while Otabek texts his mom.

“If you can pay your ticket, we’ll room you. Grandpa says the space will do you good.”

“Thank you.” Otabek says simply. It’s a little telling that Otabek’s so relieved to be leaving.

“Is your mom okay with it?” Yuri asks softly. Otabek stiffens. “I’m of age. How she feels doesn’t matter.”

Yuri and Otabek pack up quickly once they get back to the house; Mrs. Altin looks like she’s been caught with her hand in the cookie jar, guilty and regretful. When they take the taxi to the airport, Yuri can’t help but think the whole thing is a little sad. Otabek holds his hand like a lifeline.

_I’ll actually protect you. I won’t just micromanage you and call it love._


	18. Chapter 18

“So! This is Russia.” Yuuri says brightly when they arrive. He flies well, no nerves or sickness. Victor is already planning their many adventures.

“Da! The airport at least.” Victor yawns noisily while sneaking peeks at his beloved.

Yuuri has a crease on his forehead where he had rested his face on Victor’s shirt on the plane. Victor has a tiny remnant of eyeliner from Yuuri’s last show smudged on his shirt where Yuuri had rested. He is tired and very much does not care. Let everyone know Yuuri is his!

Yuuri reaches for his hand. Then he stops. “Yeah you were telling me about Russia. How they are about gay people.”

“I’m not worried.” Victor says happily, taking his hand. He’ll protect his mate with his bare hands if he must.” To the luggage claim!”

“HEY! Victor!” someone yells angrily. Victor searches for the source, and then almost laughs when he sees how slender and fair this loud and angry someone turns out to be. An older man, presumably his guardian sighs loudly at the outburst and another teen shakes his head good naturedly nearby.

“I’m sorry, do I know you?” Victor smiles, breezily as can be.

“You old man! You promised to choreograph me a routine! And you never did! What the hell is that about??”

“Forgive my grandson.” The older man offers. Victor isn’t bothered by his rudeness. He’s incredibly nervous to talk to his manager and to have Yuuri in his homeland, and somehow getting scolded right off the bat diffuses some tension.

“It must have been before I changed careers. Do you have a ballet instructor now?”

The teen frowns. “Kind of. A friend of mine, Lilia wanted to teach me.”

Victor stops in his tracks. “Lilia Baranovskaya?”

“Yeah, how’d you know?”

“I’ve worked with her before. Let me give you my number. Any student of hers is good enough for me.”

Maybe he could make Yuuri a routine, and this guy a routine, but have them contrast, yet complete each other, a yin and yang effect.

“You’re a dancer too, right?” he addresses Yuuri.” You were crying at the competition.”

Yuuri laughs nervously. “Yes, I remember. You got mad at me in the bathroom, and when we found out we had the same name, that made it even worse.”

“Whatever. I’ll call later and you can both help me.” He stomps off to the luggage claim, the other boy in tow.

“Please forgive Yuri.” The older man shakes their hands. “He went to meet his soulmate, and his mother made things very difficult for them. I actually brought them both back.”

Yuuri nods, “some matches aren’t very accepted, we’re matched too.” 

“I see! You two do look like a pair! I’m Nikolai Plisetsky. That was my grandson, who I raised, Yuri, and his soulmate Otabek. Please choreograph something for Yuri. He needs an outlet. “

Victor thinks of all the things he can show both Yuri’s, about all the knowledge he can pass on.

“It’ll be my pleasure.”

At Lilia’s house…

“How is it?”

“Delicious.” Yakov says simply. Lilia isn’t used to cooking for others. Even when Dimitri was here, they would take turns. It’s flattering when Yakov gets a second helping. They don’t always talk much, but even quietness with him was comfortable.

“I got a call from Yuri.” She says eventually.

“Does he want to learn ballet now?”

Lilia smiles a little, “yes and one of my former student is choreographing a routine for him. It’s funny how everything connects.”

“That’s wonderful.” Yakov fidgets.

“Why does that make you nervous?” Lilia frowns.

“You’re correct. Everything connects. I recently heard some unpleasant news about my sister. I wanted to tell you as soon as possible.”

Lilia frowns. “I thought you hadn’t spoken to her in years.” She’s heard a little about Yakov’s family, mostly about it being a little dysfunctional.

“She cut contact 20 years ago. I didn’t even know when she died. I never found out because we were so estranged. Recently my brother looked into it, because he was going to reach out to her again.”

“Why was she estranged?” Lilia asked quietly. Yakov didn’t seem the type to turn his back on family.

“She drank every day of her life. My brother and I tried everything to get her to sober up, but she was mean when she drank and wouldn’t listen to anything we said. When she cut contact for good we were a little relieved because we thought it was over. She died 17 years ago, but we never got notified and her husband never told us either.”

“You didn’t wonder why you hadn’t heard anything in so long?”

Yakov sighs. “I wondered. But we weren’t speaking. I assumed no news was good news. When we looked into it, I realized why the universe gave me to you as your second match.”

Lilia’s stomach twists unpleasantly tight.

“She drank too much and drove. Hit a man and a pregnant teen and killed them along with herself. I looked up the police report and the names and dates are all the same as what you told me. It makes me feel sick to my stomach.”

Lilia feels like she might throw up herself. This cannot be…

“So your sister killed my husband?”

Yakov winces, “Correct.” Lilia stares at him for a long time. She wants to be angry, but it wasn’t Yakov’s fault. It was tragic on every level. Yuri’s mother dying affected Yuri and his Grandfather. Dimitri’s death broke Lilia’s heart, and the driver’s death… her death was tragic too. Lilia had wondered before how much of addiction was choice and how much was illness.

Both. It was both. People decided to pick up the bottle, shoot up, take the hit, but in return it took them farther down the rabbit hole than they thought they’d ever go.

“When did you find out?” She asks Yakov. He looks nervous, which confuses her until she realizes that he’s afraid this turn of events will bring an end to their courtship.

“I found out yesterday. I wanted to have dinner tonight and let you know as quickly as I could. I understand this might change things.”

Lilia kisses him. He startles in surprise before returning the kiss. His hands go around her, warm and large against her slimmer back. What does this change? Life was a whirlwind. There was no use in complicating things more than they already were. Dimitri was gone and she grew so tired of feeling empty. She’s not going to reject Yakov over this new development. If anything this made her feel closer to him, now that he knew the same pain that tore her to pieces and ate her up at night. She had dealt with a lot of her troubles alone, and she didn't want him to have to do the same.

When she pulls away, Yakov looks calmer. 

“You are my match.” She says simply, “It does no good to hold your sister’s action against you.”

Yakov nods, gives a crooked smile. “It’s nice to be your match.” 

Mila’s apartment…

Sara’s hair is so pretty. No matter how much Mila plays with it, it hardly ever became tangled. Mila’s hair is so short that she rarely has opportunity to play with it, but she has a tutorial for a French braid up on the computer, and her hands in her girlfriend’s hair.

This is how a lesbian dies happy.

“Is this too tight?” She asks Sara.

“Mmm. S’good.” Sara mumbles. Mila laughs, she suspected that Sara was jetlagged but this just proves her case.

“You wanna sleep, baby?”

Sara makes another sleepy noise. Mila maneuvers so that they are lying down on the couch instead of sitting. Sara is starting to snore (lightly and in a cute way) when her phone starts to ring. She pops up and checks the ID, and then rejects the call.

“Who’s that?” Mila asks, before internally smacking herself. It’s really none of her business.

“Mickey. Sometimes he calls, sometimes my parents call. I think he told them.”

Oh shit!

“What happens when they find out? About us?”

“I don’t know. They are pretty homophobic. For all I know they’re writing me out of the will as we speak.” 

“Should we return the call if it’s that bad?”

“Can I nap first?” Sara sighs.

“Of course.” Mila understands a problem being so big that it’s hard to face. She is happy to stand up for Sara, but she recognizes that this is something Sara has to take the lead on. All Mila can do is be there every step of the way.

Sara starts snoring again. Mila watches her sleep for 5 minutes, then 20 minutes, laughing a little affectionately when her girlfriend starts to drool.

_I_ _’_ _m completely on your side. I got your back, babe._


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So how crazy is the Coronavirus crap? It's insane. I've really struggled with my mental health because of it, idk if that is something I should share, but yeah, it's been rough. I hope you guys are all okay. Thanks for all the comments and kudos, take care of yourselves <3

“Your form is terrible.”

“You’re serious right? C’mon, Lilia I thought we were friends.” Yuri scowls.

“I shouldn’t say terrible, I suppose.” Lilia shrugs. “Being on pointe after taking a break from it, is an accomplishment in of itself. You’re still fairly flexible too.”

“Is that something I might grow out of?” Yuri asks curiously. Lilia frowns lightly, “Possibly. Do that again, from the top.”

Yuri does, and he does again until his muscles ache and his feet hurt and when the sweat starts to drip into his eyes he feels ready to burst with his new purpose. He had been thinking lately that he needed a reason to get up in the morning, something he could carry on his own without needing to rely on anyone. Having Otabek helped a lot, and he was excited for the double date that Mila and Sara had suggested for tonight and Grandpa was always on Yuri’s side, but Yuri _needed_ something that was just his, dependent on no one, something to set his soul ablaze and make him grateful for every breath he took.

When he finishes Lilia looks pleased even as she critiques him further. She looks a little more relaxed these days, most likely due to how close she and Yakov have become. There is something like a secret in the way she looks away when he catches her eye after the lesson. It makes him curious.

“Is that all for today?” Yuri asks her meaningfully as he pants softly. Lilia frowns again. She shakes her head. Yuri’s intuition lifts his head like a dog sniffing at a scent in the wind, and for the life of him he doesn’t know why.

“That’s as much as we’ll do for today.”

Victor’s apartment...

“I feel bad, that I don’t have anyone to introduce you to.” Victor sighs. Yuuri’s never heard him mention his parents. Russia wasn’t an ideal place for someone to grow up gay. Yuuri’s parents had been more or less accepting once they got used to the idea.

They’re in bed, with the laptop playing the music for the dance routines he’s creating for both Yuri’s. Earlier they had danced them, and it was impossible to take your eyes off of Victor. He’s like a whirlwind, beautiful and crazy and wonderful in many ways. Yuuri isn’t really able to describe the exact feeling he gets in his chest, but it’s the most incredible thing he’s ever experienced.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Victor asks when Yuuri doesn’t respond.

“Sorry, just thinking. I mean… it’s too bad your family isn’t on board with all of this. Were they really angry when they found out, you know…” Yuuri bumps his foot against Victor’s. Even with his socks on, it feels weirdly intimate. Most of what he does with Victor, including sharing the mirror when they get ready for the day felt intimate. Some days it’s too much, others it feels like Yuuri will die as soon as they are back in their own countries.

“That I was gay? They pretended I wasn’t for a long time, and I was always afraid to say it out loud. It wasn’t until I started seeing men that they couldn’t ignore it anymore.”

“Were they angry?” Yuuri asks softly. Victor hums like he’s thinking

“They stopped talking to me. But there was never a big argument. I kind of wish sometimes that there had been. It felt so unfinished, like if they told me something angry I could say to hell with them and move on. It feels like an open wound, honestly, because I’m still not entirely sure if they’re completely through with me, or if they just need time to process.” Victor says evenly. He’s oddly composed about it, but it’s no different from reciting lines in a play. He’s presenting it as openly as he can without oversharing.

Yuuri knows he’s only being careful because the wound, as Victor has put it, is gaping. He works so hard to keep it scabbed over, and if he shares enough it’ll bleed and he won’t be able to stop it. It’s the same as someone saying “I’m fine,” when asked how they were doing, because they want to save face. At the same time, he knows Victor is being as open as he can, which is lovely.

Yuuri rolls over a little and gives Victor a kiss, which is immediately enjoyed by them both. They’ve gotten a little more physical in the last week or so, and maybe they were rushing, but Yuuri can’t bring himself to care.

_When you can no longer save face, I’ll be there to pick up your pieces._

Canada…

“So the apartment will be in this area. This lot has been vacant a long time, and it’s actually a fairly good price for the land.” JJ says. His hand encases hers, thumb drawing a continuous circle on the back of it. Isabella nods, sleepily. She has been working a nightshift at a grocery store, stocking shelves. It had been the first job she had applied for, and they were short handed. The work was upfront. Come in, stock the shelves, merchandise a little.

Isabella loved it. It was not a career. Not really, but when she told JJ about it, he had been excited. He picked her up around 4 AM each morning, ruffled and exhausted, and they would go home, talking and kissing until the sun rose.

“Maybe you can become a manager if you work hard.” he had said when she told him about the job. True, it did leave her a little tired, but it was nice to be able to hang out with JJ during the day.. She was starting to gain muscle lifting all the boxes, not much, but enough that she no longer felt like dying when they went on runs together.

Recently they had been talking to the city about JJ funding the project. There was a lot of red tape of course, but it set Isabella’s heart on fire.

“Do you think we can visit in the meantime?” She asks eagerly. “We could bring some clothes, and food…”

“Yeah that’s fine. I can buy a few things….”

“Nope! I got paid a few days ago. This one’s on me.” Isabella grins. JJ is giving her a look that she can’t place.

“What’s that face for?” She teases. She feels a little uncertain.

“Nothing.” JJ kisses the hand he’s holding, “I’m just really proud of you.”

Mila’s Apartment...

“So? How did you trip go?” Mila giggles. She’s one wine cooler away from tipsy, and Sara’s not that far either, with both sets of eyes gleaming with mischief, Yuri can tell exactly why they were matched.

“Otabek’s mom… uh…” Yuri begins.

“It’s okay. You can say it, I won’t be offended.” Otabek smiles, a little sadly, but enough that Yuri can speak his thoughts.

“Well, she was opposed to the match. Even though we were matched at birth. Well err my birth.”

Sara’s brown eyes widen. “From birth!! Oh now you must tell us.”

Yuri laughs, “I don’t remember, I’m sure Otabek might not either.” At this Otabek laughs. “It’s my earliest memory. I remember everything. I’m not sure if I should tell it though.”

Mila giggles, “and why’s that?” Yuri feels a little wash of pain, like a watercolor dampening the lighthearted mood.

“He saw me be born. Well actually he saw them perform an emergency C-section on my mother after she died on the operating table. I’m not sure I want to hear it either.”

Sara and Mila both launch at him, hugging him even as he protests. He is engulfed in a cloud of soft hair and soft perfume. Granted, he loved holding Otabek most of all, but he rather liked the comfort of his new friends too. Otabek laughs in the background, and eventually the girls let him go.

“If you want a mother figure, we’ll be your gay moms.” Mila snickers when she releases him. Yuri rolls his eyes.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you Hag.” He’s pitifully grateful, to have these people in his life.

“You guys still want to get dinner?” Sara asks, “I know an awesome little diner, where they treat the staff like crap.”

“No. I’d rather die than go back.” Mila laughs. She sounds so much happier than when Yuri first met her. “Let’s go!”

The girls put on their jackets. Sara stops mid stride out the door. “You guys coming?”

“Yeah,” Otabek says evenly, “We’ll be right out.” The door shuts behind them.

“What’s that about?” Yuri demands.

“I wanted…” he fidgets

“Spit it out!”

“I wanted to ask if you’d kiss me, but I didn’t know when we’d have privacy.” Otabek mumbles quietly. His cheeks are red, and he looks nervous. Yuri’s heart starts pitter pattering in his chest. He can feel his cheeks heating up too.

“I guess you could do that.” Yuri answers, lamely. It feels like it takes forever for Otabek to actually kiss him. When he does, it feels like he’s done it all his life. In between one breath and the next, even when Mila comes back in the house to yell at them to get in the car, all he can think of is Otabek, and how it feels like those hot summer days, the ones where you sleep under a thick duvet with the fan on high.

Otabek’s demeaner was cool and calm, so the bond was too, but he was so much more than that. His love, his affection was warm, he was everything Yuri wanted. He was so comfortable, so easy to be around. How Yuri survived the first 17 years of his life without him, he’ll never know.

_I love you_.

“Me too.” Otabek says when he pulls away. Yuri hadn’t realized he had said it out loud.

“You guys gonna make out, or are we getting dinner?” Mila teases.

Otabek grabs Yuri’s hand and leads them out the door.

Later, they’d definitely need to do that some more later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I realize that homelessness isn't necessarily caused by lack of housing but that'll come up later as Isabella and JJ navigate their options. Thanks for reading :)


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things are scary right now with the virus, so today's chapter is like 89% fluffy. I hope all of you are doing okay and are safe and healthy. Thanks for the comments and kudos for the last chapter! Y'all are awesome, enjoy the fluff!

Otabek kisses like he does most things: with an easy grace that hid his careful calculation. He was warm and easygoing in a way Yuri envied, but at the same time he was always aware of where Grandpa was in the house when they kissed, and considerate enough to chew and offer Yuri gum before they engaged in a particularly engaging make out session, the type they were enjoying more and more often as of late. His hands felt lovely, innocent as their touch often was. Whether stroking over his arms and back or petting through his ever growing hair, there was no doubt in Yuri’s mind that even if he couldn’t see the string that wound between them, he would have put two and two together the first time Otabek kissed him because it felt so _right._

Otabek still hasn’t really talked to his mother. Yuri almost wonders if he should gently nudge him to do so, maybe it would help. Get it over with, maybe, like ripping a band-aid off.

That aside, he’s currently practically in Otabek’s lap, and he’s petting at Otabek’s hair. It’s unstyled, wild since it’s morning and it’s almost unbearably soft and bouncy without product in it. The sense of security and belonging is strong.

Yuri was crazy, unbelievably, stupid in love.

Mila’s apartment…

It was stupid that Mickey texted Sara so much. Mila wasn’t sure what he was saying, but Sara was always left cranky and more often than not, glum whenever she looked at her phone.

“Block him,” Mila suggests heatedly when the latest text leaves Sara rubbing at her face in defeat.

“He’s my twin. It feels so wrong. Even though he’s being stupid, I know a lot of it is my parent’s influence. I know I’m making excuses…”

“Yeah, you kind of are,” Mila snips. She regrets it instantly, seeing the irritation in her girlfriend’s face at her remark. Sometimes she just feels like shit that Sara’s family can’t just accept that Mila’s in the picture now, and she selfishly also wishes that Sara would draw a line in the sand, and say something along the lines of “this is my mate, deal with it.”

“You’re supposed to be on my side, you know.” Sara grumbles. Her body language is in stark contrast to her words. Her arms aren’t crossed, she’s not particularly guarded, and Mila realizes that family drama aside, Sara is on her side too, and making an effort.

“I am on your side. I just worry sometimes that you’re ashamed of me,” she admits quietly. She’s mindful on keeping her own body language open as well, so that Sara knows she’s trying. At her admission, Sara softens noticeably.

“I am proud to call you mine. I know I haven’t been brave about this whole thing. Part of me wants to tell them to shove it. I’m just…scared, I think, but I could never be anything but happy to be with you. If the roles were reversed, you would have already dealt with it. You’re brave in a way I never could be.”

Mila softens too. She gathers Sara up. She notes that Sara makes herself a little small in her arms, and it would concern her if she didn’t know that sometimes tucking yourself away in someone else was endlessly comforting.

“I got your back, love. If you need to, we can face them together.”

Victor’s apartment…

“That went about as poorly as I thought it would.” Victor says through a relaxed little smile. His manager had more or less flipped out on him when they met up. Granted, Victor had gotten on a plane to Japan without so much as a second thought, but had he not asked Yuuri not to interject during their meeting, Yuuri would have given the bastard a piece of his mind.

“You seem a little too cheerful for someone who just got scolded,” Yuuri muses.

Victor shrugs, “years of practice. I got bullied as a kid if I so much got a B on a test. I am honestly glad to have it over with. Actually, there’s something else. What do you think of me going back to dance? I… miss it so badly I can barely breathe.”

Yuuri feels automatically happy. He loved the way Victor moved. He had long thought that Victor’s immense talent would just go to waste if he continued to model, especially if his heart wasn’t in it. He’s never voiced this, because it felt a little disrespectful, and if he respected anyone, it was his mate.

“I support you no matter what.” Yuuri replies honestly. There were few careers Victor wouldn’t be fantastic at, and Yuuri supposed he would support most of them, except maybe prostitution. The train of thought immediately reminds him of the enthusiastic and eccentric man Victor had introduced him to as a friend, the same man Yuuri had danced with at the infamous failed competition.

Christophe was it? He can’t help but feel that he and Phichit would get along. Yuuri had video chatted his friend back home while he was in Russia with Victor. The happiness Phichit showed at Yuuri’s match was as flattering as it was encouraging.

They drive to the studio where they are going to meet Yuri. He’s taken onto his Agape assignment like a dog with a bone, relentless in his pursuit of perfection. It looked beautiful, but the teen never seemed satisfied.

Yuri wasn’t always nice to Yuuri. He often called him ‘Pig’ which was unfortunate to say the least, Yuuri had gotten a little more trim after working so hard learning new dance moves, but he still was overweight by most standards. When Victor realized how much the nickname bothered him, he spent the night showing his appreciation to various parts of his body, one by one. For a first time it was pretty memorable and comfortable. Yuuri thought of that milestone every time the younger Yuri snarked at him.

“I see you and Otabek are getting along swimmingly,” Victor teases gently after Yuri calls him an old man.

Yuri turns a vibrant shade of blushing red. He touches a kiss mark on his neck with a mortified expression.

“That’s not your… that’s none of your damn business old man!”

Victor laughs, loud and clear, “Just make sure to use something. No glove, no love.” Yuri sputters, red as can be, and only calms down when Victor makes him run through his exercises.

Canada…

“This is fun.” JJ says excitedly. The cart is steadily filling up. They are shopping for some things to bring to the camp. Things that are easy to eat. The people at the camp don’t have the best teeth so they omit things like granola bars or really hard fruit. Isabella locates the clearance rack and picks out some inexpensive but still decent jackets and long sleeve shirts.

They drive over to the camp. JJ gets out first, leaving Isabella in the car to gather up their purchases.

“Um… honey nobody’s here.” JJ says after a moment. Isabella gets out to look, and sure enough the camp is empty.

They end up going to a nearby business and asking what happened.

The man they ask is well dressed, elegant even. He snorts, “they got told to leave. Cops don’t want a bunch of ruffians hanging around. Honestly most of them are either crazy or on drugs. Good riddance.”

Isabella nearly climbs over the counter to choke him out. JJ gets her out of there before she does.

When they get back to the car, she looks at the stuff, all the food and goods and feels so discouraged.

JJ looks determined.

“We’re going to drive around. Find the homeless people, and give them a bag. We won’t stop because of something like this.”

Isabella wasn’t one to count her blessings in the past, but JJ truly was the biggest one right now.

“There!” JJ stops illegally, out of the way as much as possible. It’s obvious that the person under the bridge is in the same position Isabella was it until recently.

He looks nervous when JJ approaches him with a bag in hand, but JJ explains as Isabella watches. Eventually he shakes JJ’s hand, keeping it clasped a long time.

JJ comes back in the car, sees Isabella crying.

“See what you’ve done? You worked and you paid for that stuff, and now Joseph is better for it.” JJ seems happier than she’s ever seen him and _that_ is saying something.

“Joseph?” Isabella asks.

“Yeah! That was his name. Seemed like a nice guy.”

_No_ , Isabella thinks, _the truly nice guy here is you._


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm almost done writing this, I'm thinking it'll be around 25 chapters total. I am excited to share the rest with you guys. Without giving too much away, there are some intense moments in the next few chapters, so hold onto your hats! 
> 
> Thanks for reading and leaving comments and kudos as always, I hope you guys like the rest of the story :)

“So what brings you two in here today?”

Lilia isn’t quite sure what to say. It wasn’t everyday a happy and unmarried couple enrolled in couples counseling. Lilia’s still not sure about it. It was just hard navigating a new bond, when she still missed Dimitri so much. She wanted to make this work with Yakov. The odds of a third match if it didn’t work out were slim, after all.

Yakov thankfully answers for her. “Lilia is my first soulmate. I am her second, and she is widowed. It’s difficult for her.”

The counselor blinks furiously, then he laughs, “I had no idea that was even possible.” After a moment he gathers his composure, suddenly aware that his remark could come across as rude, but Lilia doesn’t care and Yakov by the look of him, doesn’t give a damn either.

“I can imagine that being very difficult. It speaks volumes of both of you that you are making an effort. Did you have a connection beforehand?”

“Well…” Lilia begins cautiously, “his sister was the drunk driver than hit my former soul mate. And the other passenger that died in the accident is the mother of my ballet student. He is currently unaware that Yakov’s sister was the driver responsible.”

“Wow.” Another thoughtful pause. “ Is this student important to you?”

_Almost like the child I was never able to have._

“Yes.” Lilia says instead.

“Well, shouldn’t you tell him? If you keep something like that a secret it’ll be really damaging to the relationship.”

At these words, Lilia feels her heart sink. She isn’t so much concerned about Yuri hating her or Yakov even, no, she’s afraid of inflicting more damage. He had dealt with so much already. It was better if he was able to move forward, without visiting the past all the time. Then again was that really her choice to make? Yuri was young, but he wasn’t a child. She needed to trust him.

Yakov elbows her gently.

“You should tell him.”  
  


“I know. Victor and I are training him today. Maybe I can tell him, and Victor can drive him home if he needs to.”

“Are you sure it’s okay for me to call my mom?” Otabek asks him slowly, “You look a little under the weather.”

“Yeah, it’s fine. Good luck with the crazy lady. I feel fine, so don’t worry.”

He feels like crap, but Otabek doesn’t need to know that. Otabek was planning on calling his mom today. He wanted his mom in his life, he loved her fiercely, but he needed to set some boundaries so they didn’t drive each other crazy. It was important as hell, and while Yuri knew Otabek wouldn’t mind him being there for the call, he wanted to give them a little space to work it out. Doesn’t stop him from worrying about it while he walked to the studio though.

Lilia, Yakov and Victor are talking in hushed tones when he arrives. He kind of wants to get practice over with as soon as he can. Yuri’s not sure if it’s the stress of Otabek dealing with his mother, or some sort of bug, but his stomach has been upset for a day or two now. He threw up a few times last night and thankfully hadn’t woken Otabek or Grandpa up. He had told himself it was from all the food Grandpa had cooked for dinner, he had eaten a lot. He refuses to consider that he may be sick. At the thought of it, his stomach churns in memory.

He wants to practice. He doesn’t want to worry anyone over nothing.

“Why are you two whispering?” he demands. Lilia fidgets, and it catches his eye like a sore thumb, because Lilia is _never_ fidgety.

“I need to tell you something about the accident. You might want to sit down.” She’s always direct and this is apparently no exception.

“What are you talking about?” he bites out. His stomach cramps. He feels hot.

“Yakov’s sister Natalia is the one who hit Annika and Dimitri. She was an alcoholic and drove drunk. Yakov was estranged and didn’t know she was even involved or killed until recently. I wanted you to know.”

Yuri feels like he’s been hit by a semi truck; one that leaves him lying on the shoulder of the freeway feeling nauseous and disturbed. It feels like a sick joke, this new development. How come shit like this always happened? Isn’t it enough to not have a mother? Why does it have to be so complicated and involve so many others? It’s fucking sick!

It dawns on him then, how Lilia’s been weird with him for a few days now. Anger rises up like bile, like blood in your mouth when you bite your tongue.

“How long have you known this?” he demands. Lilia flushes and instantly the sense of betrayal doubles until he’s yelling his next words.

“How long have you two fucking known? Was Victor in on it too??”

“Yuri… He didn’t know. Yakov and I have known for three days. We weren’t sure how to..”

“Fuck you! You can’t just not tell me right away!” Tears start to dampen his lashes and blur his vision. His stomach hurts badly and he feels like he’s going to be sick.

Yuri is so tired of grieving. So tired of dredging up his mother’s ghost. When is it over? When will this stop?

Yuri gets sick.

“Oh my god!” Lilia is stooping beside him, with concern and he doesn’t want it. Never in a million years did he think that fate was this twisted.

He doesn’t let Lilia near him, but Victor is there as he gets sick. It registers in his head that if he was simply vomiting because of the emotional stress he wouldn’t be still going at it.

“He has a fever.” He hears Victor say to Lilia. She feels his face, and even through his anger he leans into it.

“He’s burning up,” Lilia gasps. It’s then that Yuri starts feeling more pain than nausea. It hurts so bad in his belly that it makes him feel like he’s going to be sick again.

“Let’s get you home,” Yakov says.

“No. I think something’s wrong.” Yuri hears himself say.

“Okay. ER then.” Lilia lifts him bodily with surprising strength. He struggles to stand.

Victor plucks his phone from his back pocket. He’s dialing Grandpa before Yuri has a chance to scold him for it. Yuri doesn’t pay much attention to the call.

The ride there is hazy, Yuri can only register pain, terrible and sharp on his right side, and the sensation of Victor holding his hand. The older man is as upbeat as he is annoying, but his skin feels cold compared to Yuri’s and that’s all he wants right now.

Victor helps him out while Lilia and Yakov park. Yuri always hated waiting in the emergency room, so it should be nice that they let him back so fast, but instead alarm bells just ring in his mind.

“How bad is the pain?” the doctor asks when he examines him, pressing on his belly.

Yuri’s not sure if his answering whine is much of an answer, but it’s enough to earn him an IV and a promise of surgery.

Victor laughs softly, “Only you would have appendicitis at such a dramatic time.” He’s been texting Otabek and Grandpa, who are coming. The pain is by far the worst he’s been in ever, including when he broke his arm when he was 7.

He’s waiting for them to take him back. Victor’s right about him being dramatic. They actually think his stupid appendix has ruptured, so they gotta take it out and clean him up. He’s already sensing a lot of antibiotics in his future.

Lot a bullshit from an organ he hasn’t thought of at all until today.

He wants Grandpa to hurry up and come faster. And Otabek, he needs his soulmate

But most of all he wants his mother.

“Lilia, I’m sorry. You did tell me pretty quickly after you found out. I’m not mad anymore.”

Lilia walks over to where he’s laying down, and gathers him up. He’s almost taller than her, but in this moment in his paper gown and the pain ravaging his body he feels like a child.

“I’m sorry things are like this,” she whispers into his hair. He feels a little bit of a mother’s love in her hold, in the softness of her sweater and the press of her chin against his head.

“I hate to interrupt,” Victor says, “Otabek and Grandpa should be here soon.”

Another person chimes in, a surgeon at the door. “Hi! I’m Dr.Aleexev. I am going to be performing an appendectomy on you today.”

“I need to see my Grandpa and Otabek first,” Yuri says lamely. They start wheeling him back.

“No can do! You’ve got a bad infection. We need to get your poor gut cleaned out. Don’t worry. I almost never lose patients.” A light bulb goes off in Yuri’s head

“You worked on Annika Plisetsky didn’t you.”

“Sorry?”

“I’ll remind you when I wake up.”

Yuri is marveling at how small the world is before the anesthesia kicks in. Briefly he thinks of Otabek, and how lovely a little bit of cold on his overheated skin would be right now.

If he closes his eyes, he can almost feel it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My sister, madameseahorse had this condition/surgery when she was a kid, and she has fact checked everything. thank you neesan <3 As always the author has reasons for torturing these characters so XD Thanks for reading you guys <3


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the comments, this chapter is considerably lighter than the previous one! XD This fic is now completed, and I will be updating pretty regularly so thanks for reading <3

When Yuri wakes up he feels cold, cold like when Grandpa used to break out the ice cream maker in mid June, and they’d use rock salt to make something much better than what they could buy at the store. It was always hard to wait for it, but Yuri distinctly remembers eating parts of it straight out of the machine, Grandpa laughing all the while as he licked the cold chunks of vanilla off his palm, sticky and satisfying. Cold like that one time it snowed so hard on Christmas that his snowman lasted a full month before it melted, sitting friendly outside the window as Yuri ate his breakfasts at the table. The memory is nearly as old as Yuri himself, but he remembered it like he remembers his own name.

When he wakes up, his fever is broken, his pain has shifted from the agony of infection to the dull all over ache of his lax muscles and what he can only assume is his incision.

“You awake Yurachka?” comes Grandpa’s voice. Yuri doesn’t want to leave his dream so he moans. It might also be because he’s a little sore. Actually more than a little.

“Are you in pain?” asks the source of the cold. Yuri wants to answer, but he’s so tired. He feels a hand squeeze his fingers. Probably Otabek’s, because he hears Grandpa turn a page. He always reads in hospital rooms. Finished a few books when Yuri’s Grandma passed away. He sat in her room for hours watching over her, reading to distract himself from the inevitable.

“He’s still pretty fresh from surgery. Might need a few hours to thaw out. He got some pain meds maybe an hour or so ago, but if he keeps groaning, I’ll go flag someone down,” he hears Grandpa say. Otabek doesn’t say anything, just keeps holding Yuri’s hand. He has a few calluses, which makes Yuri wonder if it’s from riding his bike or from his DJ jobs. The novel thought makes him giggle even though he’s uncomfortable.

“Silly boy,” he hears Otabek laugh softly. The hand around his gently gives his fingers another reassuring squeeze. “You’re handling this like a champ. Go back to sleep love.”

Yuri is a little sore, a little thirsty, and a lot tired, but for now he just soaks in the joy of having his family with him.

He wakes up again when a nurse comes in the room. She offers him a dinner that looks impossibly bland, but even the sight of it turns his stomach.

“Do you want some water at least?” Grandpa asks him. Otabek’s chair is empty.

“Please,” even his voice sounds parched. Grandpa helps him sit up enough so he won’t spill, helps him hold the straw. It amazes Yuri in a bad way how weak he feels. He has the sudden intrusive thought of doing this the other way around for Grandpa in a few years, maybe when Grandpa is old and sick like Grandma was. He silently swears that he’ll do it like Grandpa is, without complaining or any judgment.

“Drink, that’s good boy. Otabek will be back. He hasn’t left your side except to pee, and honestly if I didn’t make him, he’d pee himself holding it. Maybe we should ask for a catheter.”

Yuri snorts. It hurts.

Grandpa gently pushes him back in bed. “Sleep more now. We’ll be here when you wake up.”

So Yuri sleeps.

When he wakes up again, Yuuri is talking to Mila. She has a large tiger plush and she looks a little stressed. Sara is with her too.

“I feel really bad leaving when he’s in the hospital. But what they said over the phone seemed really serious.”

“What’s wrong?” Yuri croaks.

Mila startles.

“Hey sickie. Didn’t know you were awake. How’re you feeling?”

“Like shit.” He tries to sit up, but it hurts, so he stays where he is. It’s nice that so many people are here.

“Your surgery went well,” Yuuri tells him, “They said it was a pretty bad case, but you should be just fine, provided that you do what you’re told.”

“So he’s gonna die then?” Mila jokes,“he’s not the best at being obedient.”

“Says you, you’re one to talk, hag. But seriously. What about a serious argument?” he asks again.

Sara sniffles.

“My parents are threatening to disown me. I’m going to Italy to smooth things over. Mila wants to come too, but you’re her best friend and she wants to be here too.”

He files away “best friend,” for later.

“Victor’s going too,” Yuuri says quietly, “his family didn’t approve of him being gay and while there wasn’t a huge fight he knows how poorly things like this can go. He offered to go with them, but because of the potential threat of violence he REFUSES to let me go,” Yuuri punctuates his statement with a loaded look at Victor who looks pointedly away.

Yuri is so not touching that one.

“If I wasn’t full of stitches, I’d come too,” Yuri admits. He looks at Mila, “she’s your partner no matter what.” He’s half afraid that Sara will get hurt, half afraid she’ll dump Mila out of pressure and fear. He doubts it though.

“She is.” Mila says simply. “Our flight leaves in a few hours. We should pack. I’m sorry we aren’t going to be here.” 

“Can it. Otabek and Grandpa are plenty. Lilia and Yuuri are bonus.” Yuuri looks mildly offended, but it’s clearly put on, so Yuri just blows a raspberry at him. It only makes him more sore.

“Hi! Wow, there’s a lot of you! Remember guys, only two at a time! Can I have a moment with my patient?” says Dr Aleexev.

“Of course,” Yuuri laughs nervously “Sorry about that.” Mila leaves too. Otabek and Grandpa, who have been listening quietly this whole time stay, as they should. Family stays, if you ask Yuri. He’s sore and tired and only half listens to his doctor’s words. His surgery went well, he needs to be here a few days, that’s all he really needs to know.

“And Yuri?” his doctor looks thoughtful, “you were starting to tell me before you went into surgery that I had operated on your mother. I remember that. I think about it a lot.”

Yuri’s mouth goes dry.

“You do?”

“I don’t know if this helps, but I did everything I could. That was years ago, and I hadn’t had a lot of patients die on me before, not like that. I’ve always wondered… the boy that came in the room, was he your soulmate?”

Yuri nods.

“He is. I didn’t get to see him or be with him until later in life. His mom is opposed to us.” At least he thinks so.

Aleexev nods, “I’m not sure if this is something I should say as your doctor…” he pauses, “but Russia has a really long way to go in terms of gay rights. People say it’s a sin and a choice, but if small children, newborns even can be in a same sex match it just proves that people just are who they supposed to be. I’ve never been terribly homophobic, but I have my moments and it’s my suspicion that day that you boys were matched that kept me open minded. That’s the beauty of people. We can change each other’s minds.”

“Thank you.” Yuri says. He doesn’t elaborate on what for, because it’s for everything: trying to save mom, taking out his stupid appendix, bringing him into the light of the world… but somehow it’s mostly because this doc was willing to rethink what he was brought up with.

“Certainly, get some rest!”

Mila and Sara come back in the room and say goodbye. Yuri feels bad for Sara. Like really bad, because Grandpa’s always been really accepting and Yuri’s never faced any real hate for being gay. Russia as a whole was really conservative. Gay rights weren’t really a thing, not yet, but Yuri was always hoping it would get better. That’s why his doctor’s words were so meaningful. There had to be many people that were matched in a same sex match, people like him and Otabek that was made for each other, and people like Mila and Sara that fought like hell for what they had.

“I’m worried for them,” Yuri tells Otabek when they leave. Otabek cups his face with his hands and kisses him chastely, so chaste that Grandpa doesn’t complain.

“You need to be worried for yourself. Remember when you told me you felt fine? And then a few hours later you had emergency surgery?” Otabek teases, but it’s not entirely playful.

“I vaguely do,” Yuri tries. Otabek gives him a slightly grumpy look. Yuri feels sheepish.

“Sorry. I’ll try to be more aware of my body and whether or not my organs are popping open,” he laughs. Otabek snorts, kisses him a little less chastely. Grandpa doesn’t say a damn thing, just keeps reading his book. He really is a keeper. Afterwards Otabek holds his hand again, gentle and steady and Yuri soaks up his soothing energy. The nurse comes in to refresh his pain medication, but Yuri doesn’t need anything more than this.

Canada…

“So the main plan is housing, but it’s more than that. We have to offer help, services. Homelessness doesn’t have just one cause. Mental health plays as big a part as the economy.”

“JJ, baby, I know this.” Isabella gets another bite of steak and asparagus on her fork (their fork?) and shoves it in her boyfriend’s mouth to shut him up. She is in all honesty really touched that JJ is so excited all about of this. It’s just a daunting project and she gets stressed sometimes.

“I’m just excited,” he says after he chews, “this is bigger than anything I’ve done before. Performing at concerts, it’s fun and it’s rewarding, but this feels bigger. This affects people’s lives.”

“You know, music positively affects people too. To be fair.” Isabella points out.

“True. Hey, could you hand me my wallet?” He gestures across the room.

“Sure. Why?”

JJ opens it, looks inside, grins like a Cheshire cat. Isabella eyes him sideways.

“You know, you really spoiled my plans. Did you know when I said we should go out to eat tonight, that I already had reservations?”

“What? No! I’m sorry, I just figured since we had food here we should eat here.” Isabella takes another bite of her dinner, feeling a little guilty. JJ laughs breathily and she feels better.

“It’s okay, Bella I was just teasing. I don’t mind you being practical. It’s actually one of your best qualities.”

“So why the reservations?”

“Well…” he pauses hesitantly, pulling something small out of the wallet “I wanted to ask you something.”


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the comments and kudos! You guys rock, this chapter has some BIG stuff going on, and there is some conflict with Sara's family that might be upsetting, although it's verbal, not physical if that helps.
> 
> I've written this chapter over many times, mostly because I wanted the emotion to come across in an accurate BUT healthy way. Some of the family relationships like Mickey/Sara and Otabek/his mom are unhealthy but I wanted to write them in a way that suggested that both parties wanted to work on it and make them better. I know that sometimes we have to say that enough is enough and we won't settle for bad behavior but relationships that become healthier because of hard work on both sides, mean a lot to who I am and resonate with me more than a relationship that was healthy all along, if that makes sense.
> 
> I'm excited to show you guys the rest of the story. I like how it turned out and may or may not get emotional when I upload the last parts XD

Yuri wakes up to gentle sound of Otabek’s voice.

“He’s doing okay. I feel bad that I wasn’t able to catch that he was so sick.” He’s holding Yuri’s hand again, talking quietly on the phone.

“I know it’s not my fault. But I got really scared when I got here and they said he was already in surgery. He’s my soulmate, and I couldn’t protect him. I can’t even be with him all the time. I live so far…” Otabek sighs into the phone. Yuri can barely hear the other person, but their voice is at a low murmur, soft and soothing.

“Sara, well a friend of Yuri’s, is probably going to be disowned because her parents don’t approve of her match. I don’t want that to happen to us. I want us to be family, you and I and Yuri and Nikolai. I want that so badly. I miss you, but maybe my place now is here. Maybe it’s time for me to just be near Yuri.”

“Do you mean that?” he says after a pause.

Yuri strokes his fingers over Otabek’s hand. Otabek pulls them to his mouth and kisses them while his mother talks.

“Put on speaker please.” Yuri whispers.

“When you two matched it scared me. I was only in Russia for school. I knew if you two were matched you’d probably eventually move to Russia to be with him. I never really got over you’re dad dying. Why did he fight? He should have given up his wallet and come home, but he was stubborn. I shouldn’t be angry about that but I am.”

“I’ve thought the same thing,” Otabek admits, “I feel bad that I do.”

“And all I had left of my marriage was this beautiful little boy. I knew you would eventually leave to be with him, and I couldn’t handle being alone. I’ve been selfish. Kids leave the nest. Sooner if you try to make them stay.”

“So what are you saying?”

“I’m going to try harder. I love you Otabek, please make sure they take good care of Yuri.”

“You don’t need to tell me to look out for Yuri.” Otabek laughs, “I didn’t even think you liked him that much.”

“I don’t dislike him. To be fair, I never gave him a chance.”

“True.”

“Otabek? I don’t know if this helps, but I started going to counseling. I want us to get along better. Anyways, maybe we can talk soon?”

Otabek looks pleasantly surprised, “that’s awesome, Mom, really. I’ll call you tomorrow. Love you.”

After Otabek hangs up, he kisses Yuri soft, slow and very sweet.

“I think she’s trying.” Yuri murmurs when they pull away. He doubts she’ll ever be super approving and laid back, but if she respects Otabek enough to try anyways, then Yuri can stop thinking the worst of her. He’ll try to be flexible too, for Otabek.

“She’d better. Because I love you way too much to let her get in the way.” He gently butts their foreheads together, like an overgrown cat. It makes Yuri laugh even as a light knock is heard.

Lilia comes into the room, with Yakov. Yuuri lingers in the doorway. They aren’t really all supposed to visit him at once, but they do, and they’ve been scolded before.

“I hope you’ll feel better in time for practice,” she deadpans. Yuri knows it’s a joke. He’s currently her only student so he knows their schedule isn’t set in stone.

“I should hopefully, my instructor is a total hard ass.” She sniffs like she’s insulted but he knows she’s not.

“Only because I see so much potential. You know there are a lot of dance competitions and Agape looks almost ready. I expect you to win a few when you get your health sorted out.” Lilia smooths down his blanket as she talks and lets her hands rest on his feet. It’s pleasant in a way.

“Fair enough. Hey are you two going to get married?” Yuri teases, gesturing between Yakov and Lilia. Yakov sputters like he’s embarrassed, but Lilia just nods. “Eventually. But not yet. Yakov and I have time.”

Yuri nods. He’s happy for them, he really is.

They leave, and Yuuri comes in. He’s got an odd expression on his face.

“What’s your problem?” Yuri asks good naturedly.

“I’m going to ask Victor to marry me.”

“Wait, what?”

Canada…

Isabella is already ready to cry at the sight of him kneeling and he hasn’t even asked yet.

“Isabella, these past few months have been incredible. I want to spend more time with you, learning about each other and I want to delve deep into helping the homeless population. Will you do me the honor of marrying…”

“Yes!”

“You didn’t even let me finish!” JJ laughs as she kisses him repeatedly.

“Yes. Yes, yes holy shit yes!”

“I didn’t know you could swear!” He teases her. Her visions blurs, and she cries like a baby. In a way it’s the same as being born, a brand new blank canvas, a lifetime ahead of her to do what she wants to do, the innocence of a fresh start. To her everlasting surprise there are a few tears in JJ’s eyes as well.

“I would love to marry you,” she cries. He slides the ring on her finger. She’s never worn anything as expensive as this, she’s sure of it, but she’d be with JJ anyways. Without the house, the cars, the fame, she’d be this happy being with him even if her luck had never changed.

“You make me so happy,” JJ says simply.

“You made my life better.” She hugs him tightly. In the beginning she felt like she wasn’t enough for him because of her past, but he squashed her fears quickly. She’s always wanted a love like this, but it still amazed her that she found it.

“So what are we gonna name our kids?” JJ giggles. He’s probably joking.

“Nathalie after your mom for a girl…”

Italy…

“You can’t do this to her. Enough is enough!” Michele grounds out.

“Mickey, you can’t let her get away with this! She has gone against the Lord and she has to face the consequences!” says Mrs. Crispino.

“We should go inside to talk,” suggests Mr. Crispino.

“Like hell, you’re coming inside!” Sara and Michele basically say at once.

Sara and Mickey’s apartment was tense to say the very least. They stood outside the door arguing. It’s a small wonder nobody’s made a noise complaint.

“You’re a disgrace! Just because you have a woman for a match doesn’t mean you have any right to visit her!”

“Mom, I’ve done more than visit Mila. WAY more.” Sara laughs aggressively. Her mother’s shriek of horror is almost worth it.

“How dare you! After how we raised you, you’re gay? There is no place in heaven for people like you!” says Mr. Crispino.

”I’m calling the cops,” Sara says shakily.

“You wouldn’t do that to your own mother!”

“I never thought you guys would be this stupid. Mila is my soulmate. I am not sinning, I am not a mistake in God’s eyes, you have no right!”

“I agree.” Michelle says. Sara sees red. He might be acting less crazy, but for some reason she’s angrier with him than with anyone else.

“You can’t pretend to be on my side now! You sent me such ignorant messages, and now you’re saying they are out of line? I thought we were close!” She gives him a big shove. Victor puts his hands out to prevent her from doing it again.

“As angry as you are Sara, you don’t want to give them any fuel,” he points out, then he adds, “Mr. and Mrs. Crispino, get out of here and don’t come back. If you don’t we will call the police. This is not your home. You do not pay the rent. You have no say here.”

“She’s gone against nature! You! You’re surely the one who started all of this! Some slut with dyed hair…”

“Do not say anything to Mila or Sara, go down those stairs, or so help me I will _make_ you.” Victor holds himself up to his full height and points down the stairs.

“But, she has…”

“Don’t make me say it again.” Victor warns.

Mila feels like she’s watching a car run off the road. Should she boldly proclaim her love for Sara and tell them to go fuck themselves? Does she try to reason with them? It would be easy to dismiss them with anger, but what if it’s not over for Sara? If Sara still wants a relationship with them, maybe she should be civil, but if she doesn’t come to Sara’s defense then is she being protective enough?

“You have no right to talk to her like this. She lives with me.” Michele yells, “I’m not saying I’m comfortable with her being gay, but you shouldn’t say whatever you want. She is your daughter!”

“She’s not my daughter. And you’re not my son.”

The words register like a bat to the head. They physically hurt Mila and she’s not even their child. She sees the look on Sara’s and Michele’s faces and she know she has to say something.

“There are things we can never say to our children. I may not have any, maybe we’ll adopt some, we’ll see down the line if you’re allowed to see them. How sad would that be if you weren’t able to? But I would never say something like that, no matter how angry.” Mila is glad her voice is steady, They actually seem to be listening, “Isn’t the point of God to be a good person? You’re a disgrace to your faith if you’re turning on your children. Go home. Go home and ask God if rejecting the people who love you is his plan.”

Sara’s mom gives her a look. Mila gives it back. Eventually they turn and go down the stairs. Sara waits until they are down in the street getting into their car before she breaks.

Michele looks conflicted. “Look Sara…”

“No! Don’t talk to me. You’re just as uncomfortable with me as they are. You’re not my brother anymore.” She regrets the words as soon as they register on his face. She may has well punched him in the gut.

“I don’t want your match to weird me out, but it does. I don’t know how to change that. But if you want to live here it’s fine! I’m okay with that.”

All Sara feels now is anger.

“I didn’t realize I needed your blessing.”

“Sara, come on…”

“I suggest you go inside Michele.” She hasn’t called him by his name in ages, calling him Mickey in affection all their lives. It feels foreign on her tongue.

He does go inside, even drawing the curtains leaving Victor, Mila and Sara there to call a taxi to go to the hotel they had rented in case of things going south.

And wow, how they had gone south, so, so fast.

Mila listens. She sits for ages while Sara storms around the room, then holds her for hours as she cries. Victor orders room service and bullies her into a meal.

This is family, not the poor imitation of it they had argued with.

Eventually Mila tucks them under the covers, Victor in the other bed softly updating Yuuri on his phone. Mila flips off the light and presses herself close. Sara thinks of how they were raised, considers the fact that Mickey might be willing to work on himself to be more open-minded. Her dad’s words echo over and over in her head loud enough to drown that possibility out.

Sara’s never felt heartbreak as deep as this


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for commenting and reading! Hope y'all enjoy the second to last chapter :)

The fog is thick, but the smell of the forest is thicker. She’s barefoot and the moss is soft and dense under her toes. When she looks down her toenails are painted purple like they are currently and she’s wearing the mood ring Mickey bought in a gumball machine when they were 9. It would never fit her now, even if she knew where it was, but this _is_ a dream.

Sara can sense wildlife everywhere, but the fog is too thick. The words, her parent’s wishes, echo throughout the area loud loud LOUD.

“You’re not my daughter.”

“You’re not my daughter.”

“God! I’m sorry! I’m sorry that I’m gay, I tried really hard not to be.” Sara’s words echo too, through her heart more than anything, voice cracking.

“Am I a bad person?” The fog is so thick she can’t see.

When she wakes the dream feels so vivid, that she can feel it lingering. She’s not sure of who she wants to be, raised one way and then morphing into someone else. What did she believe, what was most important?

Mila is sleeping with her head under Sara’s jaw. Her mouth is slightly open in a light snore. Her body is relaxed, muscles warm, socked feet brushing against Sara’s leg, her breath puffing over the skin of Sara’s collarbone. The string connecting them was as bright in the dark of the hotel room as the glow in the dark stars Sara had on her ceiling as a kid.

Sara sighs fondly. Mila has a knack for making everything better without even trying.

That settles it then.

_I’m not sure what I believe in, but I do believe in you._

In the morning…

“It was awful. It broke my heart,” Victor says lowly. He hears Yuuri sigh on the other end.

“I’m glad you were there,” Yuuri says eventually, not sure of what else to say.

“I feel like I was too involved. I should have let Sara deal with it, but I jumped in. It wasn’t my place. I don’t want her to think…” Victor doesn’t want Sara and Mila to think they couldn’t have handled it without him just because Victor was a man. They totally could have. Victor reacted for them because he was scared.

“I wanted to end the conflict as fast as possible so nobody got hurt,” he explains to Yuuri.

“Vitya, I think that’s okay. You were feeling protective. By the way can you message me the name and room of the hotel?”

“Why? You going to show up in Italy to rescue me?” Victor jokes.

“Well, yes. I actually just landed.” Yuuri whispers nervously.

“What!” Victor sits upright. He looks at the other bed to make sure Sara and Mila didn’t wake up. Sara had been tossing a lot, who knows what kind of dreams she’s been having.

“This is a situation where you need backup. You’re probably drawing parallels to your own experience with your coming out, and Sara could use more help. If you think I’m afraid enough of some bigots to not have your guy’s back, you’re wrong okay? Now text me the hotel address and room number. I won’t ask again.”

It shouldn’t be hot to hear Yuuri talk like this, but Victor finds no use in questioning it.

Sara’s phone starts ringing. She groans softly, fumbles out of bed and swears when she sees the ID.

“Mickey, leave me alone and go to hell,” she mumbles into the sheets.

Mila stirs, and surprises them both when she grabs the phone from Sara and accepts the call.

“Speak carefully, this may be the last time you speak to my girlfriend.”

Sara gets up and shuffles around slowly starting to wake up.

“Really? That’s… unexpected.” Mila says cautiously. Sara lifts her head. “Sara, baby. I want you to do something for me.”

“I’m not going to talk to the guy. He’s a creep.”

Mila shrugs “I think you should if you don’t want to be as stubborn as they are.”

“Fine.” Sara grabs the phone. Her heart is pounding.

“Hey Sara.”

“What do you want?” she bites out. Michele takes a shuddery breath.

“I’m gay.”

Sara stops in her tracks.

“What?” she asks dumbly.

“Didn’t realize I was, but I got matched to a guy named Emil. He’s my coworker actually. We’ve never gone on a date, but he keeps begging me to. I’m so scared of telling mom and dad. I’m terrified.”

“Are you yanking my chain?” Sara finds herself sitting down. She’s in shock.

“I wish I was, it would be easier. But I’m gay and I’m weirded out by gay people. It’s really kind of sad when I start thinking about it. It’s funny isn’t it, that the one thing our parents don’t want us to be, we both are.”

“Yeah, it’s hilarious.” Sara feels Mila come up behind her, feels the secure wrap of her girlfriend’s arms around her.

“I don’t want to be this way. I don’t want to be gay and I don’t want to be a homophobe. I never realized you could be both.” The line is quiet for a long moment.

“Sara? You’re my twin. We’ve done everything together our whole lives. I’d die for you.”

“Mickey…”

“I would. And we’re going to do this together too. If we’re gay, and they can’t stand it, then I’ll still be your brother. I promise.”

“Haha, like when we used to make deals as kids? Like a pinky promise?” Sara says less heatedly.

“Yes. I pinky swear,” Michele nearly laughs, “Come home. We’ll even move if we need to” Michele says softly.

Sara and Mickey talk awhile, eventually the knot in her chest unwinds, and she melts into Mila’s hold.

“It’s going to be okay.” Mila assures her. Sara leans back and turns her head to give her girlfriend a kiss.

“Maybe.” Her parent’s judgement still aches, but she doesn’t feel as alone as she did before he called.

There is a knock on the door. Victor goes to it and looks through the peephole, already knowing who it was.

“Yuuri!”

“Victor.” Yuuri greets cautiously. Victor had asked him not to come so that he wouldn’t face any of Sara’s parent’s bullshit. That said, there was something comforting in Yuuri’s soft form, and his round eyes and his dogged determination to be by Victor’s side.

“Hi Yuuri.” Mila says calmly. “It’s good to see you. Sara and I are going to meet up with Mickey to discuss our options about housing.”

“We are?” Sara asks softly.

“Of course, with me moving in, it may be time for an upgrade.”

“What? You’re moving here??”

“Of course love. It’s inevitable right? I wanna be with you.”

“Mila, what did I do to deserve you?” She wants to kiss her mate, (maybe more) but she’s aware of the extra eyes, Mila seems to catch on.

“Would you guys mind giving us maybe a few hours?” Mila asks Victor and Yuuri.

“We’ll make sure to knock when we get back!” Victor teases, then he addresses Yuuri.

“How do you feel about seeing some of Italy, my love?”

Yuuri lights up, “that would be amazing.”

They end up all the way in Venice, renting a little boat and staring out at the clear waters of the Adriatic. Never would Yuuri have guessed he’d up end seeing so much of the world. The weather is lovely today, a contrast to their now resolving drama. There are a few fluffy clouds in the sky, and it’s sunny and fairly warm. He’s never seen anything this beautiful and it still pales in his mind to the man chattering happily at the other end of the boat, his smile bright and his eyes happy.

Now’s as good a time as any, Yuuri supposes.

“Vitya? I want you to continue being my coach,” he says as evenly as he can. Victor looks pleased to hear this, but Yuuri presses on.

“Also… someday, when Russia get with the program, I want to get married.” He pulls out the two rings. Both are gold, both cost a fortune, and he literally doesn’t even care. He needed this way more than money.

“Yuuri…” Victor says softly, all emotion. The water swirls under their little boat. The sky is bluer than the ocean back at Hasetsu. Yuuri needs to marry Victor like he needs the air he breathes.

“I want to be with you. I want to rent an apartment with you. I want to be together long term, as long as you’ll let me,” he slides the ring on Victor’s right ring finger, like they do in Russia. When he looks up, Victor’s gaze is so soft and sweet, like he’s been waiting for these words all along.

“I want that too,” Victor says softly, “but there’s one thing missing.”

“Anything, Victor,” he says as Victor slides Yuuri’s ring on his finger.

“How do you feel about adopting a dog?”

Yuuri laughs. He wants to lurch forward to hug his soulmate (he still can’t believe he has a soulmate) but he is mindful of the possibility of tipping the boat over.

“I don’t see the harm in a dog or two.” Yuuri says eventually though his smile.

“Or three?” Victor asks hopefully. He holds the ring up to the light to admire the way it caught the sun.

“Three might be pushing it.” Yuuri laughs. Has he ever been this happy?

“Two it is then.”

Yuuri keeps catching the glint of their gold engagement rings, and the red of their string and the rich colors of the nearby buildings reflected off the crystal water. He’s never imagined his life would be this colorful. The golden rings told everyone the same thing their string of fate did, but these they could show the world.

Yuuri’s main thought while they floated around, when they dock back to land is how excited he was to tell his parents, to tell Yuuko, Phichit and Minako.

They get gelato at a café, sweat drying on the back of their necks, and Yuuri could be worried about a number of things: Victor changing his mind, not being good enough for Victor, money, getting a sunburn, but Victor’s optimism crept through the bond and mirrored Yuuri’s own.

For once in his life, the anxiety was quiet.

Russia…

Yakov walked up the path to Dimitri’s grave. They had visited Yuri earlier that morning and he had mentioned that he felt bad not visiting his mother. His nurses were starting to have him walk around to build strength and he really struggled. Lilia had caught up with Nikolai while Yakov walked around with Yuri, holding onto the boy’s arm, making polite conversation. It was nice, that they seemed to like each other. They were both very important to her.

The pain she usually felt at seeing his headstone was replaced by a gratitude that surprised her with it’s strength. She’s so glad she got to have Dimitri, so glad that she gets to have Yakov.

Yakov is weeding Annika’s grave, his hands becoming dirty, he gives the stone a polite “good afternoon” and tells her that her son is gaining strength. It warms Lilia’s heart in the most beautiful way.

“Dimitri,” Lilia says very quietly, “I miss you more than ever. Is this okay with you? Do you approve?”

“Lilia, look.” Yakov whispers. When she lifts her head there is a cat close to Dimitri’s grave. She’s seen bunnies and squirrels here before, but this cat is gorgeous. Fluffy, gray and cream with blue eyes.

“She’s beautiful,” she looks like she’s been living in the wild for awhile, no collar or anything.

“What do you think she’s doing here?” Yakov lets the cat sniff at his hand, she leans into him and purrs, a friendly little thing.

“I’m not sure. But Dimitri would have loved her. He was a sucker for fluffy cats like this.”

“Well… maybe this means he’s giving us a gift,” Yakov muses. Lilia isn’t the superstitious kind, but she silently agrees.

“Can you think of anyone who’d like a cat like this?”

Yes, yes she can.

“Yuri loves cats, but he doesn’t have any. Would you like to be Yuri’s cat? He’s in the hospital now, but you can stay with us until he and Nikolai are home.”

The cat rubs on Lilia’s hand, as soft as a cotton ball, rumbling out a meow.

“Okay. That settles that.”

Italy…

The forest smells like rain. The moss is soft under her feet just like before. The fog is still present, but she isn’t scared anymore.

“I don’t know what I think,” Sara tells the forest, “I’m struggling with my identity. But I want to be a good person for Mila and for Mickey. If you’re not angry, and if you exist, please help me do that.”

The fog clears. She can see the forest for its beauty now, the soft moss, the wildflowers, the small birds that bathe in the ponds of collected rain water. A rabbit hops by. A deer raises it’s head from a pond it was drinking from. It regards Sara without fear.

Sara wakes up when Mila shakes her.

“You’re crying in your sleep,” Mila tells her softly as she swipes at her tears with her thumb. Sara giggles. For the first time in a long time she feels like the universe isn’t out to get her.


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Editing this since I was too moody the first time XD
> 
> I honestly have noticed that the Yuri on Ice fandom is definitely a lot less happening, which makes sense because of the show going so long without more content. I appreciate everyone who has followed this story as well as my Yurio recovery series. A lot of you were here for both, and it means a lot to me <3
> 
> I'm the type of person who is incredibly critical of themselves so this fic, while rewarding, has been kinda hard too.
> 
> If you like this, let me know. I feel like this is one of my better fics, and I really hope you guys like it. When Yuri on Ice comes back and Otayuri is officially canon (oh lordy I hope so) I will be back with tons of new material.
> 
> I pinky promise! XD

One year later…

“Jean Jacque Leroy, popular rock musician, has personally funded a project that will house and assist up to 250 homeless individuals, which will start undergoing construction this summer. This comes just months after Leroy married his longtime girlfriend Isabella Yang, who herself was previously homeless…”

“Turn it off.” Isabella grumbles. They are in bed, her head is on his shoulder and his arm is slung over her side. Isabella is tired from work, but she isn’t working nights anymore. When she got promoted to manager they let her choose day shifts. She kind of wanted to be an owner someday.

“They aren’t going to say anything bad,” her husband (husband!) chides. “I listened to this when it aired a little earlier. All they say is how the project does more than house. It helps people with things like food and services if they need it. They say it’s brilliant and that I probably did it because I loved you so much.”

Isabella softens. “I can’t believe how much things have changed.” She really can’t. She can’t believe that 250 (two hundred and fifty!) people were going to be housed because of them, that they could receive services that would change their lives forever.

She looks at the beautiful ring on her finger, and marvels in the fact that this wonderful man put it there.

There’s more too. Even the thought of it makes Isabella grin like a kid at a birthday party.

“I’m glad the manager position is less physical. I’d worry about you guys if you were lifting a lot of boxes.”

Two was quickly becoming more. It grew under her skin everyday, not just one more big change but _two._

JJ likes to feel the bump. She’s still mostly soft, not terribly far along, but enough to know she was having twins. Soon her belly would be hard, stretched in growth, with their new lives growing by the day until things changed in a major way again.

JJ’s parents had cried so hard at their wedding, that she was surprised they had any tears left for the positive test. It was nice, this whole having a family thing. JJ had cried too. They were going to have a family, it blew her mind.

“I’m so glad you found me.” She tells him for the millionth time. JJ kisses her on the nose.

“I keep thinking the same thing.”

Italy…

“Hi Emil! Welcome in!” Sara greets, giving him her hand to shake. Mila’s chicken is ready to come out of the oven, bread steaming in the basket; the pasta was already cooked and in the colander properly drained and rinsed. The whole apartment smells like heaven.

“Nice to meet you!” He ignores her outstretched hand and hugs her instead. Mickey had mentioned his match was very friendly. It took Mickey a long time to start dating Emil, because of his internalized homophobia, but his mate had been really patient.

When Mila finishes cooking, he hugs her too. They both like him immediately.

“Hi Sara. I brought wine,” Mickey says from the door as he comes in too. They had decided not to live together. Mila and Sara got a place and Mickey had stayed at the old place. Sara is grateful every day that he’s still in their lives.

“Hello! Thank you Mickey.”

It’s nice, Mila thinks as they tuck into their meal, to have everyone together. She remembers when she worked at the diner and felt like people didn’t care about her or her well-being. But now, she has Sara, and her brother and his match, and a few rather good friends in other countries.

Yuri called several times a week either by phone or by Skype. He and Otabek got an apartment when he turned 18, but stayed fairly close to his Grandpa. From what he told her, they had a lot of dinners like this too.

Sara meets her eyes over the table. The feeling of the bond is the same: that same thrill of luxury, like delicate lace or sparking wine, but there was something like family in there too, now

Mila has always wanted a home like this.

……

Yuri feels like he’s buzzing, the adrenaline of competing has built up so high in his system that he’s wired with it, but it’s not a scary thing: it feels _good._ Eros and Agape had been like a fever dream, and he knew Yuuri was just as excited as he was.

“You won!” Lilia breathes, as Yakov pats him on the shoulder. This was his first dance competition and first place, the recognition, the prize money was all his.

The other Yuuri shakes his hand.

“You barely beat me, but you earned it.”

“You did great too, katsudon.”

Yuuri sighs, “I wish you’d stop calling me that. I keep having to explain it to people.”

“What that you’re a sexy pork cutlet bowl?” Yuri snarks. He was never going to live that one down.

“Yuri, be nice,” Lilia warns. He shrugs, he’s only teasing. He’s excited to see Grandpa tonight and tell him. The competition was close enough to home that he doesn’t have to be away from Potya for too long but they will have to take a train. The thought of his sweet kitty made him anxious to go home.

“You did great,” says Otabek as he comes up from behind. He wraps him up in a big snuggly hug. It’s funny sometimes the dichotomy, how he’s so warm and yet so cold.

“You’re like an icebox aura wise. Have I ever told you that?”

“What?” Otabek says. Yuri turns around and kisses his boyfriend.

“The bond feels cold on my end. Like you’re cooling my hot head off.”

“Really?” Otabek muses, “You feel hot to me.” Yuri laughs softly. They complimented each other, there’s really no other way to say it.

“I’m so happy.” Yuri sighs.

“I am proud of you for winning first place.”

Yuri snorts, “Don’t be stupid. That’s not why I’m happy.”

Later on…

“Makkachin leave your brother alone.” Yuuri warns softly.

“He’s just being playful,” Victor defends gently, “plus Vicchan’s little puppy teeth are sharp and he plays rough.”

“He’s not really a puppy anymore.” Yuuri points out softly. Victor hands him his coffee and lets their fingers bump together.

“Thank you Vitya.” Yuuri gives him a kiss. “It’ll be nice to video Phichit later.”

“Yes it will.” Phichit had been really supportive of this entire process. Yuuri misses dancing at the club in Japan, but he’d been competing in competitions here with Victor, and really enjoyed it. He tosses the toy for Makka again, marveling that this apartment, these dogs, and this life was theirs.

“I’m so glad I got on that plane,” Victor says after a small silence. Yuuri is glad for that same thing everyday.

“I am too. Hey, let me teach you some more Japanese. I want to see if I can iron out that accent…”

Victor laughs, “be my guest, no promises my love.”

He wants to share everything with Victor.

Lilia’s house…

“I think we should get married.”

Yakov raises his head. He’s been dozing on their couch, so hitting him like this would be unfair if she hasn’t brought it up already.

“I mean think about it,” Lilia continues, “we already share a house and a car and money. It makes sense.”

Yakov nods. He still looks sleepy, “if you’re certain.”

Lilia feels herself smile. “I am.”

“Fine then. We’ll go by Dimitri’s grave later and I’ll ask his blessing.” At this Lilia softens.

She feels like the wound is finally closed, the stitches dissolved and the blood cleaned. It will always hurt, but it isn’t debilitating, not anymore. Fate had given her another chance, and she wasn’t going to question it for a second.

“We can visit him,” she says, “but no need to ask. I know he approves.”

Yuri and Otabek’s apartment…

“Potya! We’re home! Were you a good girl?” Yuri calls.

“When is Potya ever good?” Otabek jokes. Yuri laughs and flops down on their bed. Otabek follows, and soon the cat in question is on the bed too. Yuri’s shirt rides up and Otabek cuddles with him, running his fingers over the old scar on his belly until it tickles so badly Yuri swats him away. He wraps his arm around him instead, lacing their fingers together.

“Do you still wanna skype mom tonight?” Yuri asks softly.

“Yeah, but I’m still kinda surprised she’s dating again. It feels weird.” Everyone (well except Lilia) got just one match, but Otabek’s mom had met a man in the support group she had started going to that was widowed too. They had clicked right away.

“I think it’s good for her,” Yuri says, he’s happy for her. She’s become a lot calmer, a lot less anxious.

“Thanks for helping me with dealing with her.” Otabek says softly.

“I’ll always be here for you. I promise.” Their string of fate twists around their bodies as they cuddle, Otabek’s nose ends up buried in his hair, his arms strong as he holds him. Yuri could live like this forever.

“Can we visit my mom, before we skype your mom?” Yuri asks softly.

“Sure.” The journey to her headstone is uneventful. Yakov’s been keeping her grave very clean, but Otabek watches Yuri tidy it a little anyways.

“I won a competition,” he tells her. Otabek always feels a little like an outsider when he does this, and he always likes to give Yuri a little privacy.

“Otabek, don’t be rude, come say hi.” Yuri says when he’s done talking.

“Hello, Yuri’s mom.”

“Annika,” Yuri corrects.

“She never said ‘call me Annika.’ I don’t want to assume,” Otabek points out gently. To be fair she never will meet Otabek, will never introduce herself to him, which in Otabek’s way of thinking is odd, because he was one of the last people, other than the doctors, to see her alive.

“Anyways… um, Annika,” Otabek says softly, mostly to distract himself from his morbid thoughts, “Yuri’s in really good hands. Nikolai loves him, and I love him. Please don’t worry about him.”

Yuri startles him by latching onto his arm.

“I think she would have liked you.” Yuri says quietly. It doesn’t matter than Yuri’s never even met her, they both hope it would be true, that Annika would have liked them both.

Otabek is very nearly certain.

When they walk back it’s a little chilly, the light breeze ruffling their hair and the leaves. It’s almost evening and Yuri has a terrible habit of not wearing enough of a jacket so Otabek gives him his. The leather jacket that looked so big on him last summer, fits better now, although Yuri is still more slim than him.

“I don’t feel bad about it anymore,” Yuri says eventually.

“For what?” Otabek asks.

“Surviving.”

“Yuri…”

“For a long time I felt terrible that she died and I lived. More like now I’m happy I’m alive and sad that she’s gone. That’s better right?”

Otabek pulls him into his arms, tucks him under his chin.

“Yes. That’s better.”

“Beka?”

“Hmm?”

“I’m glad I have you.” Yuri says simply. Otabek knows he means it.

Otabek kisses him under the flickering street light with all the love he’s felt for him since he was three. When he pulls away the bright sea green of Yuri’s eyes pulls him in deep like they always have. He’s so done for, and he can’t even bring himself to mind.

“I’m glad too.”


End file.
